


else {live long and prosper}

by lunaemoth



Series: Change Order 66 [3]
Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Divergence - Order 66, F/M, Fix-It, Fluff, M/M, Protectiveness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:00:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 25,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24006244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunaemoth/pseuds/lunaemoth
Summary: Following the end of the War, Clones and Jedi must learn to live together in peace.This will be a collection of answers to prompts based on: if (hear: “Execute Order sixty-six”). You'll need to read it first.
Relationships: 104th Battalion & Plo Koon, CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi, CC-5052 | Bly/Aayla Secura, Jango Fett/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Change Order 66 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1731298
Comments: 151
Kudos: 1181
Collections: Best of StarWars





	1. Fox and the Coruscant Guard's future

**Author's Note:**

> This has been edited by _[Arboreal](https://arboreal-elm-ash-oak.tumblr.com/)_ , thanks a lot, dear!
> 
> May the Fourth be with you all!

Obi-Wan stepped inside his apartment with a little sigh of relief. It had been six months since the Armistice, but many matters were still underway and today’s Council meeting had been long and draining.

Cody was sitting laid-back on the couch with one leg folded over his knee. A holo of one of his vod in armor was projected from the low table. In contrast, Cody was wearing civvies: a white T-shirt with an orange 212th logo (a present from Tsix to the whole battalion) and brown pants tucked into military boots. 

The demilitarization was underway, and Cody had been officially discharged three weeks ago with the rest of the 212th. They had thus lost their bunks in the barracks, and Obi-Wan had offered Cody to stay with him until he chose to leave for Lothal like the rest of the men.

Obi-Wan smiled at his friend distractedly and went to the kitchen for some tea.

“Obi-Wan.”

“Yes, dear?”

“Fox needs some advice, if you have a minute.”

“Of course. Just a moment, if you please,” he asked as he waited for the water to boil and prepared his cup. “What is it about?”

“Politics,” Cody sighed. 

Obi-Wan chuckled. “I should have guessed.”

“Did you know that Tarkin has been appointed General of Coruscant’s Security?”

“Wilhuff Tarkin?” In his surprise, Obi-Wan nearly burnt himself pouring hot water in his cup and hissed a curse under his breath.

“Well, that settles it. If the General curses, it’s bad,” Fox commented. 

Rolling his eyes, Obi-Wan wiped the mess and grabbed his cup to settle beside Cody. “Now, it doesn't have to be. Tarkin’s a quite competent man.”

“He just dressed down Fox in front of a room full of Senators because one of his men sneezed during a speech,” Cody explained with a raised eyebrow. 

Obi-Wan carefully put down his cup on a coaster and straightened with pinched lips. “He also happens to be a despicable human being.”

Cody turned to Fox with a shrug. “As I said, Master Kenobi still hasn’t swallowed Tarkin’s involvement in Ahsoka Tano’s trial.”

“He was like a starved gundark chasing after a piece of meat,” Obi-Wan pointed out with a face of distaste.

“I didn’t say you were wrong.”

“I wanted to know if there was something we could do, Sir,” Fox said. “It’s not as much about me — I have perfected the art of taking a lecture without listening since Kamino — as it is about the men. Tarkin has only been in charge for three days, and he has already done two surprise inspections and given an official reprimand to twenty-seven men. That has to be a record.”

Obi-Wan winced and rubbed his beard. “That’s quite excessive, even for him…”

“You think he’s planning something?” Cody asked, following his thoughts.

“No doubt.”

“Can we reach out to the Chancellor, Sir?” 

“I’m afraid it would be pointless, Fox. The Chancellor doesn’t appoint the security staff, that would be Coruscant's Governor which — if my memory serves me well — was appointed by Palpatine three years ago.”

“And Mon Mothma can’t do anything about it?”

“Not without a good reason, that would be an abuse of power. The Governor is appointed for five years. This means she’ll be able to change for someone better in a year or so, but in the meantime, she can’t involve herself in his decisions without cause.”

Fox sighed. “Well, here goes that thought…”

Obi-Wan leaned back and met Cody’s eyes who raised an eyebrow at him to question the pensive expression he recognized. “I may know what Tarkin’s trying to do. As you know, the Coruscant Guard is the last part of the GAR planned for demilitarization. The paperwork hasn’t started yet. With each discharge, troopers are given a severance pay calculated based on their military record, the better the record, the better the pay…”

Cody had had the highest severance pay of the whole army. The accountant in charge of his paperwork had done a double-take at it and then gaped at him when asked to donate it in its entirety to the GAR Solidarity Pension.

“Are you suggesting he’s trying to swindle my men of their severance pay?” Fox asked sharply, stiffening in outrage.

Obi-Wan scratched his beard thoughtfully. “It sounds like it, but it seems quite petty and small-minded. He’s an intelligent man, I’m sure he has something more complex in mind...”

“Leverage? Blackmail?” Cody suggested.

“Possibly.”

Fox grunted and crossed his arms before he looked to the side at someone out of range. “Again? You’ve got to be karking kidding me! … Vod, Master Kenobi, I have to go. Tarkin’s starting his third kriffing inspection.” 

“Good luck, Commander. Keep us posted.”

The communication ended.

Obi-Wan reached for his tea with a sigh. “Men like Tarkin are a pain in the neck.”

Cody hummed in approval and reached for him, resting a hand between his shoulder blades and rubbing when the contact wasn’t rejected. He pressed at the knots he could find. When Obi-Wan sighed in relief, Cody adjusted both of their positions so he could give him a proper massage. 

They appreciated the peace in companionable silence.

oOo

Two days later, Obi-Wan was meditating in front of the window letting in the sunset light when Cody took a communication.

“Vod,” Fox greeted him with a nod. “Is Master Kenobi available?”

Cody glanced to the side to see the Jedi stir. “He is now. What’s new?”

“Morale went down like a shot. Dissent is rising. There are rumors of men wanting to quit. And if Tarkin appears one more time for a surprise inspection, I’ll end up kriffing court-martialed.”

Cody stood in front of his brother, sympathetic, but watched his Jedi rise with effortless grace and calm. Obi-Wan stepped to the holoprojector so he could be seen, his shoulder brushing Cody’s.

“There is no doubt that this is Tarkin’s intent. He’s an experienced leader, he knows how to handle his men and get what he wants from them. Whether he wishes to push you to the fault or discredit you, you’ll pay the price of his deviousness.”

“What option do we have, Sir?”

Obi-Wan rubbed the underside of his chin thoughtfully. “I don’t see many. Two, if you think you can last until your discharge—”

“No kriffing way, Sir. Five days. Five days and I’m ready for murder.”

“His ability to undo years of your legendary resilience learned in the halls of the Senate is remarkable," Obi-Wan commented with dry humor.

“He’s laying into my men, Sir! They’re good kriffing men. They’re doing their job, and they’re doing it well! But he comes, insults them, devaluates them… just because they didn’t fight on the front lines doesn’t mean they aren’t good soldiers!”

The outburst surprised Obi-Wan, but Cody leaned forward and said firmly: 

“Vod. Breathe.”

Fox looked away and took a moment to calm down. “Apologies, Sir.” 

“Not at all, Fox. You’re absolutely right,” Obi-Wan replied softly. “ I have an idea to turn the tables on Tarkin, but you might not like it…”

“Tell me.”

oOo

A week later, Mon Mothma was working in her office when her assistant stepped inside with quick steps indicating an emergency. The Chancellor tilted her head up, questioning.

“It’s the Guard, your Excellency…”

“The Guard?”

“They… they all resigned, your Excellency.”

Frozen in stupor, Mon Mothma put down her datapad. “All of them?”

“All of the clones, your Excellency. They’re in the entrance and getting ready to leave.”

The clones made up more than half of the Coruscant Guard and 90% of the Senate Guard. Even when accounting for a reduction of the numbers in peacetime, replacing them in time for the demilitarization was a difficult challenge and the reason why they were planned to leave last. Mon had been hoping to convince some of them to enroll in the Guard once they were discharged, especially Commander Fox, for a better transition. 

If they left now… and they could, Force, they could! Due to the demilitarization process, all clones could resign with only one week of notice given to their immediate superior officer, which happened to be Commander Fox (or, in his case, General Tarkin).

Mon Mothma stood up and power walked to the Main Hall, noticing as she did that the news had already gone around and many Senators or Senate workers were coming down to see the event by themselves. 

As she reached the long stairs leading to the Main Hall, she found it packed with clones standing in perfect rows. At the bottom of the stairs, General Tarkin was talking animatedly with Commander Fox.

“—gave me _your_ resignation, not theirs!”

“With all due respect, Sir, I followed demilitarization regulations which state that the approval of only one superior officer of High Rank was necessary. I figured you wouldn’t want to be bothered about a few thousand resignations.”

“You figured?! This is dereliction of duty, Commander! You’re leaving the Senate defenseless!”

“As you told us multiple times, Sir,” Fox replied pointedly and curtly, “we have made our time and outlasted our usefulness. We wouldn’t want to be in the way of the friends you have ready to replace us…”

Mon Mothma (and all the eavesdroppers gathered) had heard enough. She stepped up to the edge of the stairs and called, loud and clear: “General Tarkin.”

The officers paused and looked up to her.

“Your Excellency—”

“To my office, _immediately_ ,” Mon Mothma demanded with eyes of steel and a face of marble. 

Tarkin bowed, hiding his displeasure until he heard the polite way she asked for Fox, then he couldn’t hold back a twitch of anger.

“Commander Fox, if you please.”

Rumors would later circulate stating that the Chancellor had never been seen angrier and that she could be heard shouting from the hallway after Tarkin, demanding to know why he’d have accepted Commander Fox’s resignation in the first place without letting her know.

General Tarkin was fired within the day. 

The Governor of Coruscant was forced to resign within a week.

Commander Fox and the clones of the Guard agreed to cancel their resignation (which, for some fortunate bureaucratic reason, hadn’t been validated yet) until their official discharge.

Very few of them enrolled again afterward.

oOo

Obi-Wan looked through his present with delighted surprise. “That’s so thoughtful, Fox. You shouldn’t have.”

“Sir, we owe you far more than that. Especially me. I’m pretty sure Tarkin was gunning for my head from the start,” Fox commented. "The HR director was also very clear that she was only helping us due to your call." Seeing the Jedi's delight at the gift, Fox raised an eyebrow to Cody and signed a "thanks for the tip.”

Cody watched his Jedi beam at the assortment of teas and shrugged a “that was easy” before waving a “go on now that he’s distracted.”

“Sir, I was wondering…”

“Yes?” 

“What are the requirements to become a Temple Guard, Sir?”

Pulled out of his discovery of new teas he hadn’t tried yet, Obi-Wan looked up and blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“Now that you have two main temples, we figured you might want to recruit. I have a few hundred suggestions, for your consideration...”

“Oh, dear…”

Thus, the Negotiator’s next mission was to convince the Council to change hundred of years of tradition to let non-Jedi in the Temple Guard…

It worked, of course.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This first chapter was written for _LesbianPraetor_ (who asked what would happen to Fox) and _Seshat_Ra_ (who suggested that Fox joined the Temple Guard)! I hoped you liked it!


	2. Meili Kocho and Jango Fett

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [_Arboreal_](https://arboreal-elm-ash-oak.tumblr.com/), an awesome beta, for editing this into something less clunky!

oOo Two months after Order 66 oOo

The three representatives of the Jedi Council and Meili Kocho took seats around a table. The small meeting room was cozy and filled with Coruscant’s sunset light. Meili didn’t know if it had been chosen on purpose, but she liked it. She relaxed into her seat.

“First, we’d like to apologize for the time it took us to organize this meeting, leaving you to work as a caretaker without a proper contract,” Shaak Ti began.

“It’s all good,” Meili replied with a shrug. “As long as I have room and board with strong doors between me and the Hutt, I’m fine. I’m not in this for the money, you know.”

“That’s fortunate,” Obi-Wan commented with a smile, “because no Jedi or contractor of the Jedi is destined to become rich.”

“Guys, you should renegotiate your contract with those cheap Senators. You’re being swindled out of your danger money, you know.”

Plo chuckled but brought them back on track: “Before we can finalize a contract, there are a few questions we’d like to ask you.”

“Sure, yeah, go on. I have nothing to hide.”

“We’re familiar with your work on Kamino. We have your evaluations, right here…” Plo trailed off as Meili frantically reached across the table, trying to cover the screen of the datapad with her hand. She was too short for that to work, however.

“Are we talking about the long-necks’ evaluation, here? or just Jango?”

“Both.”

“I’d just like to remind this honorable council that we have already established that the Kaminoans didn’t like me and that I was on the side of the Jedi when they weren’t,” she commented while raising a finger in the air, body still sprawled across the table.

Obi-Wan couldn’t hold back his laughter any longer.

“Have you, by any chance, sliced into the Kaminoan archives and read your file?” Plo asked with a hint of amusement.

Meili went to answer, paused, kept her index raised, and slowly straightened. “I should probably not answer this question.”

“Probably not,” Shaak agreed with an upward curl of her lips. “In any case, we’re aware of the bias of the Kaminoans and do not hold their complaints against you.”

“Good, great, awesome.”

“Mr. Fett’s comments seem more reliable, but he was rather brief on his reasons for recruiting you, and we have very little information about your past. Would you care to tell us a bit about yourself and how you came to work on Kamino?”

“Yeah, sure! Mh… Let’s see… Well, I had a pretty basic childhood. I was born on Pantora to a security specialist and a teacher. My mom taught me maths, my dad taught me coding. They died in a speeder crash when I was fifteen. I got sent to my uncle, who was a spacer… a smuggler, to be honest. He introduced me to everything that my parents didn’t want me to know. I became a slicer to save his ass — and I’d like to remind this lawful council that everything I have done before the legal Pantoran age of twenty can’t be held against me.”

“Would there be a lot to hold against you?” Shaak asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Uh… Pass?”

“Nothing terrible since you don’t have a record before twenty,” Obi-Wan pointed out.

“Ew, you have my record too? Shucks… I want it to be known that everything in it was in the interest of being paid and not a reflection of my character.”

“Including the theft of forty credits worth of candies?” Plo questioned innocently.

She raised both hands. “That… was a momentary break of my self-control. I needed the sugar.. badly.”

“You know, most spacers get addicted to spice, not candies,” Obi-Wan commented.

“Mama made me swear not to do drugs. Coffee is yucky. There were only candies left,” she admitted with a shrug.

“Your first meeting with Jango Fett?” Shaak asked, keeping them on task.

“That was one of my first jobs without my uncle. He had found it for me. I was the slicer for a group of bounty hunters. Among them: Jango Fett. He was still new to the business, and he needed the contacts. He wasn’t talkative and he insisted on taking his own spaceship so I never truly talked to him until the middle of the mission, when we were infiltrating this gang’s base...”

o

_ “Hello, this is Meili Kocho. I hacked into your helmet’s feed. Please don’t be mad at me, it’s for a good cause,” she said so fast that Jango needed a moment to parse her words after his initial start. _

_ “It better be,” he growled.  _

_ Meili was in the control room of the base while the rest of the bounty hunters were exploring the place looking for their target, a gang leader who had run afoul of a spice cartel, trying to steal their products. The gang wasn’t worth much: just two dozens of delinquents acting tough.  _

_ Meili could see Jango on security screens, and he was shaking his head in annoyance. _

_ “I thought you might want to know that the others are planning to double-cross you and leave you to die here? ... I mean, if our positions were reversed, I’d definitely want to know, and I was thinking that this really isn’t good business practice. Personally, how can I trust that they won’t double-cross me next, right? That’s why I thought I should warn you, it just feels fair… but I understand that I could be annoying you and that you wouldn’t trust me either. Yeah, I can see that now—” _

_ “Kocho, focus!” _

_ “I’m focused! I’m one hundred percent focused, I’d have you know—” _

_ “When are they going to double-cross me?” _

_ “When you get rid of the guy and are ready to leave? They want to shoot your ship. What do they have against Mandalorians by the way? They don’t seem to be fans—” _

_ “Ok. Thanks.” _

_ The communication cut. Fett moved forward, shooting two gang members as he went.  _

_ Meili pouted. “Thanks, he said. As if I didn’t just save his ass. Not even a compliment on my awesome hacking skills. Pff.” _

_ “DOOR!” Someone shouted in her com, and she pushed a button with a wince before continuing with her grumbling about the lack of appreciation. Men were so rude. Couldn’t a girl be complimented once in a while? She didn’t ask for much, just a “wow, how did you hack into my helmet feed? its security is so good, that’s impressive!”, so she could answer with an “oh, you know, it wasn’t much… well actually, yeah, your security was damn good and it was a pain in the ass, but…” _

_ “LIGHTS!” _

_ “Urgh. Men.” _

_ Half an hour later, Meili ran out of the base to the bounty hunters’ ship. They had shot down the gang leader, they had the proof of their success, and now Meili could get away from this stinky place and get her moneyyy— _

_ “Eeep!” she squeaked as she was grabbed by her backpack and pulled back inside. She caught sight of a Mandalorian helmet from the corner of her eyes, and she flailed at him. “What are you doing?! They’re going to leave without me!” She wouldn’t put it past those assholes. In fact, she saw the ship’s ramp pulled up. “Hey, no!” _

_ “Get down!” Fett growled in her ear, pulling her to the ground. She fell to her ass as he bent over her and the entrance doors closed. A second later, a loud explosion shook the whole building, and she squeaked as dirt fell on them. _

_ She cursed in every language she knew (which wasn’t a lot) and grabbed the armor of her human shield.  _

_ “What did you do?! Did you… did you just blow up their ship?” _

_ “You said that was what they planned to do to me.” _

_ She gaped at him. “Wow, they were right. You’re like… super-intense, dude.” _

_ He snorted and stood up. “Is that a problem?” _

_ She grabbed his hand, forcing him to pull her up. “You just blew up my ride and my spare clothes! … So, as long as you get me back to Outland Station and buy me new pants, we’re good!” _

_ “Buy your own pants. The bounty will be divided by two instead of four, you’ll have enough,” Fett replied as he opened the door. _

_ “It’s the principle of the thing!” she protested, following him outside to find the landing pad scorched and the ship she had flown on reduced to a smoking wreck. She jogged after Fett but couldn’t take her eyes off the destruction. The Rodian and the Twi’lek had been rude, true, but they hadn’t been that bad… They had cooked a great stew on the way… _

_ “Are you coming?” Fett asked from his position on the stairs leading to the second landing pad, where his ship awaited.  _

_ “Y-yeah, just…” She pulled her eyes away and ran after him before she could get sick and embarrass herself. The first thing her uncle had taught her was to never show fear or hesitation in front of death and murder. She had never been able to stay silent as he did, though, her way to deal with it was humor and deflection. _

_ “Do you have a spare toothbrush? Because you just blew up mine!”  _

_ o _

“And after that, what was your relationship?” Shaak Ti asked.

“Well, he bought me pants —to shut me up, he said. So we became friends, and he called me when he needed a slicer. We did half a dozen jobs together, I’d say, but we met more than that. He was often on Outland Transit Station, and he introduced me to its boss, Rozatta. She was pretty cool. She got my back against the perverts, ya know, and she had work for me, so I liked to stay there and thus met Jango pretty often.”

“Over how long?”

“Eight years, maybe?”

“And how did he recruit you for Kamino?”

“I was in hiding so it took him a while to find me…”

o

_ Meili emerged from the water with a sigh of relief, glad to be able to wash up the dirt she had accumulated and relax a little. She swam to the edge of the lake and went to pull herself up on a rock where she had left her bag and towel when movement in the corner of her eyes got her to rush for her blaster. A foot pressed down on it and slid it away. _

_ "Easy, Mei."  _

_ She stared at Jango in surprise. “How did you find me?” _

_ He removed his helmet and threw her an unimpressed look coupled with a raised eyebrow. “You might want to remember it’s my job to hunt fugitives.” _

_ “If you’re here to bring me back to the kriffing Hutt, I’ll cry all over you,” she warned, squinting defiantly.  _

_ He huffed and shook his head. “Holster your big guns, Mei, and get dressed. Sing isn't far behind.” _

_ "Seriously?" she sighed. _

_ "You shouldn't have stayed so close to a waterfall, it covers the noise of ships landing near the forest," he commented as he turned around. _

_ "It was supposed to cover for me as well," she pointed out with a sigh as she pulled herself up on the rock and dried her skin quickly. _

_ "You're the only human shape in the area. A good thermodetector can notice you from the air." _

_ Grumbling under her breath about bounty hunters and kriffing Aurra Sing (they had a history: they hated each other’s guts), Meili got dressed and pulled her wet hair into a bun.  _

_ “What are you doing out there?” Jango asked as they walked back through the forest to his ship. “I thought you hated camping.” _

_ “I hate being dead a little more, darling,” she commented snidely.  _

_ He glanced at her from head to toes, and she knew she didn’t look good. She had been on the run for two months now, and this life didn’t agree with her at all. Isolation and regular changes were torture for someone who liked social interactions and somewhere to call home. At first, she had found refuge in little farms, but after one of them had been set ablaze with its occupants inside, she had sworn not to involve anyone else. So, camping it was… _

_ “You know,” she commented with a light tone to distract him from her torn and dirty clothes or her loss of weight, “this whole bounty hunting business isn’t as fun when you’re the one being hunted.” _

_ He hummed and steadied her as she tripped over a root. _

_ She stayed quiet and focused on walking after that. She slept badly nowadays, and she was just too exhausted to maintain her shield of funny chatter.  _

_ Once they were in Slave I, Jango gently pushed her toward the fresher (yeah, got it, she stank, but there was no detergent in the woods) as he took off. _

_ By the time she was fit to be seen, they were in hyperspace. _

_ “I stole some of your clothes,” she warned as she heard him come down from the cockpit. She was pulling on a pair of his too-large but comfy socks. “Mine all need a wash.” _

_ He grunted in agreement and leaned against the wall to watch her. _

_ She stared back defiantly, daring him to comment, but of course, he wouldn’t. It wasn’t Jango’s way. “So. Where are we going?” _

_ “I have a job offer for you,” he said instead of replying. “Safe from the Hutt for years, good pay.” _

_ She frowned. “What’s the catch?” _

_ “No exterior contact. Complete blackout. No travel.” _

_ She lifted her feet to sit cross-legged on his bunk. “What kind of job is that?” _

_ “Teaching.”  _

_ “Teaching? Me?” she squeaked in disbelief. “What kind of teaching needs complete blackout? Who am I teaching, black ops?” _

_ “Something like that.” _

_ “Seriously? How did you get involved in that?” _

_ He shrugged. “I got a job offer. I was told to recruit. I thought of you and your current problem.” _

_ She leaned back against the wall, and her head thudded against the metal. “Yeah. I haven’t got much choice, have I?” _

_ “If you aren’t interested, I’ll help you to find something else, but it wouldn’t be as safe or comfortable.” _

_ She raised her knees and hugged them to her chest. “Why would you do that?” _

_ He came to sit by her side. “Because you’re a friend who put her neck on the line to free thousands of slaves… and I happen to have a thing against slavers.” _

_ “They are the worst, aren’t they?” she commented with a small voice. She knew she had done the right thing, but it was costing her so much that she needed the reminder. Of course, she could count on Jango to agree with her: as a former slave, he was one of the reasons she couldn’t bear the thought of anyone in slavery (the other being that it was just plain wrong, for kriffing’s sake!). _

_ Jango seemed to understand her need for reassurance. “Yeah.” _

_ She sniffled and leaned against his shoulder. “Will you be there in that place for black ops?” _

_ “Yes, I’ll be staying too.” _

_ “You think I’d be a good teacher?” _

_ “You taught me half of what I know in slicing.” _

_ “Well, yeah, but you’re smart. It’s easy when you have a good student.” _

_ “I promise you that your students will be just as good.” _

_ “Okay then…” _

o

“And he made me sign the kriffing paperwork.”

“You didn’t know at the time who you’d be teaching, or why?”

“Nope. Can you believe that guy? ‘Your students will be just as good.’ Ha! No kidding, they were mini-copies of him! Do you know the face I made when I saw them for the first time?!”

“Tell us.”

o

_ “What the kark am I seeing?” Meili grabbed Jango’s elbow. “There’s something wrong with my eyes… or my brain! I’m seeing your face on everyone! That’s an illness, right? I remember that from a holo plot. Is there a medic around here?” _

_ “You don’t want to see them,” Jango replied patiently with his arms crossed. “And there’s nothing wrong with you. I told you, they are clones of me.” _

_ “No, no, no, you said: ‘You’ll understand when you see them’. Jango, how am I supposed to understand something as far-fetched as cloning yourself?! How? Why?” she asked, waving her hands questioningly. “And most importantly: how many?!” _

_ “Kaminoans are scientists. It’s a job. A few thousand, for now. They’re working on millions,” he replied calmly. _

_ Meili quieted, put her hands on her knees, and leaned down to breathe deeply. “I have never fainted ever in my life, not even when I saw the price on my kriffing head, but this feels like you’re testing me. Are you testing me, Jango? Because this isn’t kriffing funny!”  _

_ “Do you need me to hold your hair?” he asked, tilting his head. _

_ It was proof of their long years of acquaintance that he knew when she needed someone to hold her hair and that she trusted him to do it in time (yes, she couldn’t hold her liquor, Jango, give her a break!). _

_ “I’m not going to throw up either, leave me some dignity, damn it!”  _

_ He allowed her a moment to breathe before asking: “Do you want to see my son?” _

_ “Wh—” She shot upright so fast that she had to grab him for stability. “A son? You have a son?! Who’s the mother? Why didn’t you tell me that first?! Is it Sing?! If it’s Sing, I hope you know that I’ll never forgive you!” _

_ Fifteen minutes later, Meili looked up from The Infant and stared at Jango, unamused. _

_ “What did I do to you? Is this your sick revenge for making you trek around the galaxy to find me?”  _

_ “I have no idea what you mean,” he replied with a straight face. _

_ “There’s no krif— damn mother, is there? You let me name every compatible being I know that you know, but he’s a damn clone of you again, isn’t he?” _

_ His lips curled up. “Not many guessed before. How did you?” _

_ “He’s a kar—” She growled at having to correct herself again and just gestured at the kid before waving at Jango’s face.  _

_ “He’s one year old, Meili,” Jango pointed out with a chuckle. “Everyone just thinks he took after me.” _

_ “I know you, Jango Fett, and I know you’re just a troll, deep inside. Come here, let me just strangle you a little bit...” She reached for him, and he backed away from her with a smirk. “I promise to make it quick. Just a little strangulation to calm my nerves.” _

_ He laughed more openly and went around the coffee table, forcing her to chase after him.  _

_ “Everyone who ever thought that you have no sense of humor is an idiot.” _

_ “Or they just aren’t funny enough.” _

_ “Are you telling me that I’m funny? Are you mocking me now?”  _

_ A wail stopped her in her tracks, and she backed up quickly to reach for the boy who had been staring at them curiously —until now. “Oh, no, no, no, honey. It’s fine. I was kidding. I won’t strangle your father. He’s an idiot, but he’s your idiot now, I get that. He needs to live to change your diapers, I know, I know.” She looked up to Jango warily. “Is it the diaper? Does he need to be changed? If you brought me to change the imp’s diapers, I’ll hack your rooms' air control and up the temperature and humidity to the max, I swear.” _

_ Still chuckling, Jango lifted his son and rocked him gently, whispering comforting words in Mando’a and kissing his hair. _

_ “His name is Boba. And I’m doing fine changing his diapers on my own.” _

_ “I never questioned your bravery, Jango. It’s your mental health I currently have doubts on.” _

o

“So, yeah, fun times… I really nearly fainted that day. The world went black for a moment there,” she recalled, scratching her cheek.

The Jedi shared looks of amusement before Obi-Wan said:

“I think we covered every question we had. Thank you for your honesty. Now, Plo said you were looking for a teaching or advisory position in a core world or mid-rim, but would you be amenable to working on Lothal?”

“Where the hell is that?” she wondered. After it was pointed out to her on a map — in the outer rim, north-eastern quadrant — she made a face. 

“We’re planning to open a school for the cadets there, and we’ll need an expert in security to develop the communication infrastructure,” Shaak Ti explained.

“The kids will be there? But what kind of protection will you give them?”

“Many of their older brothers and several Jedi will be there as well,” Plo replied. “We plan to make it a joint Jedi and clone settlement.”

“Oh… So… no Hutts?”

“No Hutts.”

“How much rain?”

“Not much at the Temple’s location. Snow in the winter, mainly. It’s a tundra.”

“Well, I’m sold. Coruscant’s pollution doesn’t agree with my complexion anyway. Where do I sign?”

oOo A year after Order 66, on Lothal oOo

It was the dead of the night on Aliitya and heavy clouds were hiding the moons and stars, making it dark. Perfect for some hunting. Aurra Sing had watched her target for days, and she finally had the perfect opportunity. 

Kocho had stepped into one of the isolated houses on the border of the town, to visit one of her numerous lovers, no doubt. It would be quick and easy to deal with her in her sleep (she was worth as much dead as alive, anyway). 

Aurra reached the house and broke the door’s lock without much difficulty. The security here was ridiculous. Everyone could go anywhere, they barely knew what—

“Can I help you?”

The tip of a blaster came out of the dark room, directly pointed to her head. Aurra tried to raise her weapon and fire first, but something pressed against her back and she froze. From the corner of her eyes, she saw clones fanning out around her, ready to fire. A noise on the roof deck informed her that there were also some above her.

Slowly, she raised her hands. She was immediately disarmed by the man at her back, and she growled in anger. How the hell had she missed them? Was this a trap?!

The one in the shadow stepped forward, showing the mix of Mandalorian armor and Jedi clothes that the clones on Lothal favored when they weren’t looking as farmers. 

“Aurra Sing. You’re a tenacious one… or stupid? Most bounty hunters, when they learn where their target is, are smart enough to give up.”

Aurra hissed as her wrists were enclosed in cuffs. “Is she here, hiding behind your back like the coward she is?”

“All you need to know is that she’s under Jedi and  _ vode  _ protection.”

“Commander?” the clone behind her asked.

Fox tilted his head in silent confirmation to bring the prisoner to jail. She would be sent to Judicial Forces the next day. Trusting his men to deal with her, Fox closed the door and turned around. 

Meili Kocho was lying on the couch with her feet up on the back. When they had noticed the bounty hunter watching her, she had accepted his plan to play bait with a minimum of complaining. He had been expecting her to keep a constant chatter going while they waited, like he knew she was capable of. Instead, she had been watching holos all night. 

It was… well, it was the kind of holo that had kept him mute and watching silently. The kind of holo that kept him here although he should follow his men and deal with Aurra Sing personally.

She was starting a new one.

When the holo started, Meilin’s face appeared on close-up. She looked younger.

_ “Jango. Skirata just told me that you left for a while. You lucky bastard, you left this wet rock and you didn’t even tell me? Bring me candies or you won’t hear the end of it! Also…” She shifted for a larger view. “Reau’ll tell you I’ve made clones cry. She’s a lying  _ shabuir _. She did it, and I’ll prove it!” _

_ The view widened as she walked, and soon she could be seen crouching next to a young clone sitting in front of a console. _

_ “Two-three, sweetie, is there something you want to tell me?” _

_ The boy, looking no more than six years old (for a standard human), straightened and tensed. “No, ma’am.” _

_ “Are you sure? Because your brothers and you are a little… weird this morning. You can tell me anything, you know, I won’t tell anyone, especially not the…” She gestured, pretending to stretch her neck. _

_ Two-three glanced at her, looked around at his brothers, and then opened his mouth pointedly. She blinked and then cooed: “Aww, you lost your tooth!” _

_ He eyed her warily. “Is it… alright?” _

_ “Alright? What do you mean?” _

_ “Instructor Reau said that made us damaged goods, and damaged goods are decommissioned.” _

_ Meili stared into her holorecorder with a silent “See? I told you” expression, before smiling to the kid. “No, darling, listen… Losing teeth at your age is normal for humans. Those are weak teeth and they need to go so you get stronger ones, that’s perfectly normal.”  _

_ “Really?” _

_ “Really. Instructor Reau is a di’kut, don’t listen to her, okay?” _

_ The child nodded warily. Meili stood up, looking around her as she raised her voice: “Kids! You won’t get decommissioned for losing your teeth, it’s perfectly normal, okay? Don’t fret, it’s all good!” _

_ “Really?” a small voice asked. _

_ “Really. I swear it on my favorite candy!” she promised, passing next to the boy and patting his shoulder before walking away to get some privacy and say into her recorder: “Jango, I’m too young to be the mother of hundreds of kids!” She pressed her palms together in prayer. “Please, you owe me candy.” _

There was a break in the holo before it switched to Meili playing cards with several instructors of the  _ Cuy'val Dar _ . Jango Fett stepped into view, in full armor.

_ Skirata noticed him first and greeted him with a laconic: “You’re back.” _

_ Meili perked up, straightening in her seat. “Jango! Did you get my message?” _

_ He threw the bag he was holding in her direction. She leaped to grab it, literally jumping out of her seat, and hugged it to her chest. “Candies!” she squealed in delight. “Thanks, you’re the best!” _

_ “Really?” a stern woman that Fox remembered as Rav Brahlor commented disdainfully with a raised eyebrow. “Do you have to feed the addict?” _

_ Meili, her mouth already filled with a lollipop, threw some half-heard and half-heart insult her way. She was focusing again on her cards. _

_ Jango rested a hand on the back of her chair and leaned down to whisper in her ear: “Stop dissing instructors in front of the clones.” _

_ She tilted her head to accommodate him and made a pouty face. “Even if it’s the truth?” _

_ “Even then,” he replied with a hint of amusement. “It’s bad for morale.” _

_ She pulled out her lollipop and raised it to make a point: “If we’re talking about morale, Reau—” _

_ “We are not. I’ll handle it. Be good.” _

_ “Yes, Sir.” She saluted, and he patted her shoulder before leaving. _

The holo stopped, and Meili worked on her datapad to find another file.

Fox cleared his throat. “Now that Sing is captured, you can go back to your room if you want.”

She hummed distractedly. “Sure. I’ll go. I should check on the kids…” But she didn’t move.

“Is there something wrong?”

“You know… just one of those nights…”

Fox removed his helmet and walked up to her, slowly, to catch her expression. He knew that expression, he had seen it on each one of his brothers who had lost someone close.

“You loved him,” he realized.

A tear rolled down from the corner of her eyes to her cheek. She wiped it dry firmly. “I used to.” She sniffled and stood up. “But whatever.” She slapped her cheeks and walked to the door. “Checking on the nanny droids, I should.” (Because she was, of course, the kind of person to imitate Yoda as a joke.) 

Fox followed, taking note to have the lock repaired tomorrow. He stayed quiet as he stepped into the cool night, knowing that he was hardly the right person to talk to someone who was grieving. All he could do was try to deflect the conversation. “You have a lot of holos from Kamino.”

“Uh? Oh, yeah, sure. I like holo albums, you know. And there was nothing else to do on that wet rock.”

“I didn’t know they allowed recordings.”

“Well, I never asked for permission.”

He snorted. Of course, she didn’t. “Some of the _vode_ might like to see them. To see _vode_ they have lost...”

She stopped in the middle of a little garden of herbal herbs, mint fragrance rising between them as he stepped close to meet her eyes despite the darkness. 

“Of course,” she murmured, nodding slowly. “I’ll sort them out and make them available in the communal library.”

“It would be appreciated,” he said, reaching for her hand and squeezing gently. “And don’t worry about the Hutts, we’ll keep you safe.” Let the bounty hunters come, it would keep his men on their toes. They needed the challenge once in a while.

“I never worried about them as long as Jango was by my side. I’m not gonna start now I have a few thousand of him,” she replied confidently with a teasing smirk, squeezing back.

He crossed his arms, annoyed by the comparison. “We’re better than Fett.”

“I know.  _ I raised you _ ,” she pointed out, laughing, and took the path to the dormitories with a last wave. “Thanks for the save, sweetie!”

Damn that woman, you never knew where you stood with her. The  _ Cuy'val Dar  _ were really all lunatics.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Mando'a:**  
>  _Cuy'val Dar_ = literally, those who no longer exist = the hundred instructors of the clones  
>  _shabuir_ = insult such as jerk/asshole (Meili only learn the best parts from any language: their curses)   
> _vode_ = brothers, now used by the clones to identify themselves
> 
> This was written in answer to the prompts of _SilreyRevs_ (who asked about Meili's life before she became an instructor) and _Seshat_Ra_ (who asked for the Hutt hiring someone to assassinate Meili).
> 
> Next chapter will be focused on Codywan.


	3. Obi-Wan, Cody and the Code

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to _[Arboreal](https://arboreal-elm-ash-oak.tumblr.com/)_ for her help editing this, especially the discussion about the Code. :)

The door closed behind the Head Cook, and Obi-Wan hid his face in his hands with a noise of embarrassment. How could he have missed this? This was mortifying.

“Don’t fret, Obi-Wan. You have been overworked and overstressed for months, while the kid has been the perfect picture of discretion and subtlety. It’s hardly the most effective way for her to get what she wants,” Cody commented from the table where he was organizing their dinner. The Head Cook had brought it to them as an excuse to give Obi-Wan an earful about Katooni, but she had ended up taking pity on him and added some tea (“for focus”) to the tray. No-one could stay mad at Obi-Wan, especially not when he looked like a kicked and exhausted puppy. 

“That’s a poor excuse,” Obi-Wan protested. “I’m a Master of the Council. It’s my duty to know what every member of the Order needs.”

Cody made an exasperated noise and threw him an unimpressed look. “Would you stop pressuring yourself long enough to eat?”

Obi-Wan came to sit down but didn’t back down. “It has been more than five months, Cody. I should have noticed.”

“And she should have spoken up.”

“I’m the adult.”

"As you like to remind me, you can't read minds," Cody pointed out, filling their glasses with water. “She was the supplicant, and she went at it the wrong way. You don't owe her to take her as a Padawan. You could refuse.”

Obi-Wan blinked and tried to put things into perspective. “That’s true. But that hardly seems fair. She showed a great deal of patience and perseverance, although her skills in communication are somewhat lacking but that can be learned easier than patience.”

Cody’s lips curled up. “So you’ll accept her as your Padawan?”

“Now, I didn’t say that. She clearly needs someone more focused on her well-being.”

“So you’re going to tell her no after she waited for five months? Seems cruel,” Cody commented before eating a mouthful of lasagna.

Frozen with his fork in his dish, Obi-Wan sent him a displeased look. “I know what you’re trying to do, but she deserves better.”

“Better than the War Hero, Master of the Council and best negotiator of the Order that she has been pining after? That’s going to be hard to find.”

Obi-Wan made a displeased noise as he ate primly and pointedly. Cody allowed him a few minutes before he commented:

“You once told me that your Master had first rejected you because he was afraid of taking a new Padawan after his first Fell. Are you going to do the same when it hurt you so much?”

Obi-Wan paled and put down his cutlery to sip at some water. He had meditated more than a few times about the irony of history repeating itself: was his lineage doomed to Fall to the Dark side? He didn’t believe it, but he understood now more than ever Master Jinn’s initial choice of not taking any more students. Obi-Wan was quite fond of teaching, but after Anakin, he had doubts… oh, so many doubts. 

Cody softened and reached for his free hand to squeeze it. “You said you’d take another Padawan, didn’t you?”

“But not so soon,” Obi-Wan protested in a low voice.

“It’s better to get back on a speederbike as soon as possible after a fall.”

“That’s hardly the same.”

“The point is the same: don’t let the fear and the doubt settle. You’re a great teacher and you have a willing student. She wants  _ you _ . What else matters?”

Obi-Wan met his eyes, taking strength in his unwavering support, and nodded slowly. “I’ll meditate over it after dinner.”

“Alright.”

A few hours later, Cody was coming out of the fresher when Obi-Wan finished his meditation and rose gracefully.

“You’re right. I’ll talk to her in the morning and, if all goes well, I’ll offer to be her Master.”

Cody smiled and came to brush a strand of hair out of Obi-Wan’s eyes. “Good. Then, I suppose, I should find somewhere else to sleep.” He had moved in the bedroom usually used by a Padawan learner a week ago, when he had been discharged.

“Oh. I didn’t realize,” Obi-Wan said sheepishly, reaching for Cody’s wrist. “I can talk to the quartermaster. I’m sure there are still rooms available—”

“Or…” Cody interrupted, stepping closer and brushing Obi-Wan’s cheek with his thumb. “I can sleep on the couch?”

“No, certainly not. That’s ridiculous. There are plenty of beds—”

Cody hummed in agreement. “I thought so too. I’m glad we agree.” He turned around to grab the bag he had left by the door of his bedroom and went through the other door to drop it next to the bed.

Obi-Wan followed him in his room with a flummoxed look, but he huffed when Cody lied back on the bed pointedly. “Really, dear?”

“I end up here one morning in two, anyway,” Cody pointed out as he removed his socks to slip between the sheets. They both often had nightmares and woke up in the middle of the night to wander around the apartment. Inevitably, the other would wake up too. They would keep each other company, talking about their nightmares sometimes, just cuddling most often. After the first morning they woke up on the couch with backaches, they just went back to Obi-Wan’s larger bed together.

“Well, yes, but this hardly seems conducive to good sleep for you.” Obi-Wan’s sleep was terrible as a rule.

“I spent most of my life in dormitories. I’ll manage. Come on now, if you want me to sleep.” Cody patted the place next to him.

Obi-Wan went to get washed up with a last shake of his head.

“Are you sure?” he asked as he lay down a few minutes later.

Cody hummed in confirmation and turned the lights off. 

When one of them (Obi-Wan) inevitably woke up that night, the other followed and hugged him before he could leave the bed.

“I’m here,” Cody murmured against Obi-Wan’s neck, nuzzling his ear and rubbing his shaking arms. “It’s alright. Breathe with me.”

Pressing back against Cody’s chest, Obi-Wan complied and basked in his warmth, feeling the dread leave him faster than ever before, his breath calming down easily.

“Good,” Cody whispered, his hand sliding to Obi-Wan’s stomach and rubbing gently, pulling up the fabric of his shirt, their skins brushing together. “It’s alright, you’re safe.”

The last shivers disappeared, and Obi-Wan tilted his head to rub their cheeks together. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” Cody promised, kissing the back of his neck, before pulling back slightly, knowing they both needed some space to fall back asleep.

oOo

Cody bore the attention of Katooni patiently. He sipped his caf, unbothered.

The young Tholothian had moved in their quarters two days ago. Her conversation with Obi-Wan, from what Cody had been told, was very open-hearted and satisfying. Obi-Wan’s doubts had subsided, and he had welcomed Katooni calmly and warmly, showing her around and introducing her to Cody without hesitation. 

Used to having people come and go in his living space, Cody had greeted her nonchalantly. However, the kid hadn’t expected to share her Master, and this new parameter seemed to need consideration. She had been studying Cody for the last few days. 

“If you want something, kiddo, you’ll have to speak up. I’m no Jedi. I don’t read the Force, and I can’t be bothered to guess,” Cody pointed out, finally taking pity of her.

Katooni’s nose twitched, in this very cute tic she had when hesitating. “May I have the jam, please?”

Cody pushed the jar toward her without a word and waited some more for the real question, if she’d have the courage to let it out.

Her shoulders finally tensed in determination, and she leaned forward to blurt out: “Are you and Master Kenobi lovers?”

He raised an eyebrow, impressed. He had thought that the shy girl wouldn’t manage to work up the nerve anytime soon. She was already improving, good. “What if we are?”

“That would be so great! Master Kenobi is so handsome and kind, but tired and stressed. He deserves someone to love and be loved in return,” she gushed. 

“And if we aren’t?”

She pulled back and lowered her eyes on her plate. “Uh. I should apologize for assuming? It’s just that you’re really close, you share the same bed, you touch him a lot, and he’s really fond of you, and—” She shut up as the door to the fresher opened.

Cody chuckled at the embarrassed kid and turned to offer a cup of tea to Obi-Wan.

“Thank you, dear,” the Jedi said as he sat down between the two of them.

Cody pushed the plate of Alderaan toasts toward him next. Obi-Wan blinked at it. It was far from their usual breakfast. 

“Padawan, didn’t I tell you that you didn’t have to cook for me?”

“I didn’t cook for you, Master,” Katooni replied with a soft voice. She was staring at her fork. “... I cooked for Cody.”

“Did you?” Obi-Wan turned to Cody with a raised eyebrow. Cody raised one back and pushed the plate again until it jostled Obi-Wan’s. “Well, then, thank you for sharing, dear.”

“Of course.”

After breakfast, Obi-Wan went to take a call in his bedroom while Cody and Katooni cleared the table.

“Thank you for covering for me,” Katooni murmured as she put back the jam in the fridge.

“No idea what you mean, kid. Those toasts were damn good, but there were a bit too many for me, right?”

“R-right. It’s not that I want to disobey Master Kenobi, you know, it’s just that I really need to cook sometimes.”

“I get it. It’s fine, kiddo. I agree that Obi-Wan needs to fatten up.”

Tholotians blushed strangely: their dark skin took a purple tint while their tendrils stiffened. It wasn’t discrete. “I didn’t say that! Master Kenobi’s just fine!”

“He lost six kilos during the war. He still hasn’t gained them back.”

“Really?!” From the worried and considering look on Katooni's face, Cody suspected her usual milk rolls would be replaced by something much more fattening. 

“Wait, Cody,” Katooni called before he could leave for the gym. “You didn’t answer me before Master Kenobi walked in.”

“What does the Force tell you?” he threw over his shoulder as he grabbed a jacket. 

“That you really, really like each other?”

“Question solved, then. I’ll see you tonight. Learn well.”

“Wait, that’s not an answer!”

“What are you shouting about, dear?”

“Uh. Nothing! Sorry, Master.” 

oOo

“Katooni likes you.”

Cody hummed and looked up from the datapad he was reading. “She’s a good girl.”

“She is, and less shy with those she trusts. Somehow, this includes you, I wonder why,” Obi-Wan commented, teasing, as he threw a knowing look at Cody. He put on his nightshirt and came to sit on the bed, pressing their shoulders together. “Did she bother you this morning?” he asked, more hesitant. “I heard her questioning you…”

“It was nothing.”

“Would you tell me if it was?”

Feeling that they were entering a serious conversation, Cody put down the datapad on his night table and turned to face Obi-Wan. “What is this about?”

“It came to my attention that there are rumors about us. I’d hate for them to hurt you.”

“Rumors.”

“Yes.”

“And what do these rumors say?” Cody questioned, leaning closer. “That we’re inseparable? That’s just the truth.” He brushed Obi-Wan’s cheek with a thumb and straddled his legs. “That I’m head over heels in love with you?” Brushing their cheeks together, he whispered in his ear: “Also the truth.”

Wrapping his arms around Cody’s shoulders, his cheeks coloring, Obi-Wan whispered his name reverently.

“Yes,  _ cyar’ika _ ?”

“I am… I don’t…”

“I know.” Cody kissed his cheeks and pulled back, but Obi-Wan didn’t let him go.

“No, I mean…”

“I know.” Cody sat and pulled Obi-Wan into his lap instead, holding him close and kissing his temple. “It’s alright,  _ cyar’ika.  _ I’ll wait for you, as long as necessary. I just wanted you to know that no rumors can ever bother me.” 

Obi-Wan hummed, pressing his embarrassed face into Cody’s neck.

“Do they bother you?” Cody traced his beloved’s cheekbone down to the beard, smoothing it tenderly. “Did the Council comment?”

“No.”

“Are you worried they will?”

“Possibly.”

Cody hummed, adjusted the pillow behind his back to be comfortable, and leaned back, pulling Obi-Wan with him so that his head rested on his shoulder. “Will they?”

Sighing softly, Obi-Wan rubbed his cheek against the soft fabric of Cody’s shirt. “It’s... complicated. We have had some long conversations among the Council over the last few months, about attachment and love,” he admitted, reaching for the neckline of Cody’s shirt and playing with it, his fingers brushing the soft skin of his collarbone. “You know, our relationship with the clones as a whole force us to redefine our views on attachment. If we stuck to the old principles of the Order, we’d have to let you go. We shouldn’t encourage you to be with us, on Lothal and here…”

Cody squeezed him despite his best effort to stay calm at the idea of losing him. Now that they had no war to fight, the vode had no purpose, and they weren't raised for idleness. Without the Jedi, they’d be lost and aimless. They had already seen what it would do: some of the vode less attached to the Jedi had chosen to go and explore, and that was all fine, but some were becoming self-destructive and dangerous. There wasn’t a week that passed by without a vod needing to be fetched and brought back to Lothal or Coruscant for some therapy sessions. Without the Jedi… they would all be a mess.

Obi-Wan stroked down his arm comfortingly. “But after the war, after spending so much time so close and dependant on you… and we can see that now, knowing what Darth Sidious had planned… we can see that’s what he meant to do, to make us dependant on you, so that when Order 66 would happen…”

“You’d be at our mercy.”

“Yes. But that didn’t happen, and all we have left now is this attachment that —as much as we have been raised to avoid it— was inevitable in the conditions we were in. We all agreed on that. It was natural, and to deny that, to try to fight it now when it’s already so deep… it could have been our downfall just as much as the appeal of the Dark side. We can’t withdraw from all of you, it’s too late… We mean too much to you, and you mean too much to us. So we have to find another way…”

“And what is that?” Cody caught Obi-Wan’s hand and linked their fingers together. 

“That’s the issue. We have been discussing how to balance it. We’re thinking of using a slightly different take on the Code:  _ Emotion, yet peace. Ignorance, yet knowledge. Passion, yet serenity. Chaos, yet harmony. Death, yet the Force.  _ This Code is considered to be a perilous one, difficult to follow.”

“It seems easier to me.”

“It’s perilous for the Jedi as it requires a very good understanding of oneself. The amount of emotion one can feel without losing peace is quite variable depending on the species and individual.”

Cody hummed in understanding, staring at their hands and admiring Obi-Wan's elegant, long fingers. “But, no matter what your code says, I have never seen a Jedi without emotion.”

“The Code is meant to be something to strive for. It's not something you can live every second of your existence.”

“And the new one?”

“It requires constant vigilance, like walking a tightrope. If we encourage a balance between emotion and peace at all times, there’s a risk that a sudden excess of emotion could disrupt that balance, a missed step that could lead to the Dark Side. The previous Code, by encouraging to control emotions at all times, had the advantage of providing a little bit more of… how should I say it?”

“Leeway?”

“Something like that. You didn’t Fall because you didn’t follow the Code once, you Fell when you disregarded it repeatedly. It was considered a safer option for this reason.”

“But didn’t it put a lot of pressure on you? You say it was something to strive for. How often did you manage it? Isn’t it like a mirage of perfection you’re trying to reach, just like Anakin sometimes called you the Perfect Jedi? Why? because you managed to do it more often than he?”

“Probably,” Obi-Wan admitted with a long sigh. He lifted his head so that his lips brushed Cody’s cheek. “As I said, it’s complicated. And in the middle of this debate, our close relationship is on the front line. I feel like I’m a bit of an experiment of Master Yoda, to be honest.”

“Why?”

“Because if I manage to balance my duty and my love for you… then I’m an example to follow. And if I don’t, then it’s a line in the sand.”

Cody hummed in thought, considering the situation with half-closed eyes. “Well then… it seems like we have to make this work,” he said before kissing the tip of his beloved’s nose. “Good thing I was planning on it.”

“And if it takes a while?”

“As I said,  _ cyar’ika _ , I’ll wait for you, as long as you need.”

Obi-Wan wrapped his arms around Cody’s neck and pulled him down for a proper kiss, brief but soft. Their lips hovered over each other’s before meeting once again, parting for breath, and then embracing again. Obi-Wan squeezed tighter, and Cody pushed him down, back to the mattress, and lay over him so they could be chest to chest, forehead to forehead, eyes closed and breaths mixing.

“ _ Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum.  _ I know you and I hold you in my heart, forever,” Cody breathed. This was a love declaration in Mando'a, and he meant every word of it.

When he was pulled tight into Obi-Wan’s arms so they couldn’t see each other’s face, he didn’t say a word more, holding his beloved despite the tears he felt falling on his skin.

It was alright.  _ Emotion, yet peace _ needed a little adjustment time, and Cody had all the time a human could wish for, as the mark of a needle on his biceps could attest.

oOo

A few weeks later, Cody was coming back from a lecture in Military Tactics he had given to a class of Initiates (the Jedi Educational Corps had no qualm recruiting the vode; in fact, the Service Corps in general were currently the most important employers of clones in the galaxy). He was walking with Fox, who was spending most of his free time with the Temple Guard to prepare his (and his men’s) reconversion.

“So we’ll be sent to Lothal,” Fox was explaining. “Master Drallig thinks it’s for the best. It would avoid stepping on the Guardians’ toes and allow us to organize ourselves as we wish since the security has to be started from scratch.”

“It makes sense. Were you hoping to stay on Coruscant?”

“Me, not particularly. Some of the men have riduur here, though.”

“They’ll have to talk to them about moving, then.”

“They’d be welcomed at Aliitya?”

“Of course. Several vode brought their riduur with them. They just have to go through some paperwork.”

Before Fox could question him further, Cody was called from an adjoining hallway. He turned to see Obi-Wan walk up to him, leaving behind a group of Masters who starred unabashedly.

“Oh, hello, Fox.”

Fox removed his helmet respectfully (he had been told time and time again by the Jedi to stop saluting them, this was the only greeting they’d accept). “Master.”

“I’m sorry to interrupt, and I know this is unbelievably rude of me, but I need your help,” Obi-Wan told Cody, stepping close.

“Of course. What is it?” 

Obi-Wan took a breath and, blushing, asked: “Would you mind kissing me right now?”

Fox unconsciously took a step back, trying to disappear in the background.

Cody blinked. “The answer is no, of course not, but I feel like I need some context here.”

Crossing his arms and trying to appear composed despite his red cheeks, Obi-Wan explained: “Master Unduli and I have a philosophical disagreement. She maintains that passion and serenity cannot coexist, and I’d like to prove her wrong.”

“... by kissing me publicly.”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan confirmed, keeping his chin high, his cheeks recovering their usual color as he built confidence. “But I’d understand if you wouldn’t—”

Taking a single step to close the distance, Cody reached for Obi-Wan’s cheeks, cupping them and tilting his head so he could kiss him firmly and comfortably. Humming into the kiss, Obi-Wan steadied himself on Cody’s hips and melted into the embrace. 

Fox raised his helmet in front of his face to hide his grin and glanced at the Masters who were gawking at the scene. Wait until he told that to Command… Cody would never hear the end of it.

After a long moment, Cody let Obi-Wan go, an arm wrapping around the Jedi’s waist to keep him close while his left thumb smoothed tenderly the red beard. “Satisfied?”

Obi-Wan cleared his throat and looked down to recover his composure. “Quite. I think I made my point. Thank you.”

“Happy to help,” Cody replied with a smirk.

Obi-Wan turned around reluctantly, nodding at Fox before leaving. 

The clones stayed quiet, watching the Jedi as they bickered among themselves when Obi-Wan reached them.

“Really, Obi-Wan?” Stass Allie exclaimed, trying to be disapproving, but she couldn’t hide a grin.

“Well, you wanted proof, did you not?” 

“You made your point,” Luminara Unduli admitted reluctantly. “But you shouldn’t flaunt your emotions, it’s dangerous.”

“I’m not  _ flaunting  _ them,” Obi-Wan protested, “and pushing Jedi to hide has proven just as dangerous and contentious—”

“We should continue this conversation in private, I think,” Stass interrupted, glancing at the vode who were listening. 

Fox and Cody waited for the Masters to be gone before looking at each other. Fox’s lips stretched into a large grin.

“Shut up,” Cody said preventively, walking away. They had a planned call with their brothers on Lothal.

“Oh, not a chance, vod. You kissed your Jedi silly just in front of me. If you think I’m ever letting this go, you’re delusional. Will Rex be part of the call? He’ll want to hear all the details. You’re lucky I didn’t record it. I should have, the boys are going to complain.”

Cody sighed and bore the teasing of Fox and the rest of Command, resigned. 

It had been worth it.

Still, as soon as they were alone in their quarters a few hours later, Cody grabbed Obi-Wan and pulled him in their bedroom.

“Would you like to explain what was that kiss for?” 

Smoothing Cody’s shirt (a present from Obi-Wan to celebrate his discharge, and thus his most elegant shirt), Obi-Wan didn’t meet his eyes. “It’s the only idea that came up to mind. I never feel more passionate and serene at the same time than when you hold me,” he admitted. “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you.”

“Did I feel embarrassed?”

“No, but—”

Cody pecked his lips and drew him close. “I’ll kiss you whenever and wherever you want, cyare.” Now that there were no more regulations and link of subordination between them, he had absolutely no worry about what others would think of their relationship. If he stayed discrete, it was entirely for his beloved's benefit.

Looking up, Obi-Wan bit his bottom lip before tilting his head to ask for a proper kiss.

“Master! Can you help with my homework, please?” Katooni called from the living-room.

“I’m coming!” Obi-Wan immediately replied, pulling back before going on tip-toe to peck Cody’s lips. “Tonight,” he whispered in a promise. 

“Whenever,” Cody repeated with a smile. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Obi-Wan opened the bedroom door but turned around to point at him. “You better not.”

“Yes, Sir.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Mando'a:**  
>  _Cyare/Cyar'ika:_ beloved, sweetheart  
>  _Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum:_ As explained in text, the literal translation would be something like "I know you and I hold you in my heart, forever," which means "I love you".  
>  _Riduur:_ partner/spouse
> 
> This is in answer to several requests for CodyWan and, in particular, the prompts of _LovesFrogs_ (who asked for Obi-Wan and Cody talking and cuddling, as well as brotherly teasing — more on that last point later :)) and _anesor_ (who suggested that Cody approved of Katooni fattening up Obi-Wan).


	4. Cal, Caleb and the young clones of Lothal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to _[Arboreal](https://arboreal-elm-ash-oak.tumblr.com/)_ for her help editing this!

oOo One year after Order 66 oOo

“You’re only a year older than me,” Cal grumbled. “Stop pretending to know everything.”

“I don’t know everything. I just know more than you,” Caleb replied with a smirk. He laughed when Cal pouted, and he threw his arms around the younger Padawan so he could hold him while mussing his hair.

A few steps away, their Masters, Jaro Tapal and Depa Billaba, shared a smile. 

The two Padawans had never really interacted before the end of the war, but since they had settled on Lothal at the same time, they often could be found together. Cal had made the first step: feeling lost and lonely, he had kept close to Caleb as much as he could. At first unwilling to have a tag along, Caleb had been won over by his kind and quiet shadow (“It’s his eyes, Master,” Caleb had complained, “he looks like a kicked puppy when I tell him to go away, but he does it anyway, and then I feel guilty and he’s sad... Ah, damn it, now I have to go and comfort him.”). 

“It’s good to see them so carefree,” Depa commented fondly.

“Indeed,” Jaro agreed, “the war was difficult on the younglings, but they rebound the fastest. Still, I believe they’re expected… Cal, you’re going to be late!”

“Yes, Master!” Cal got away from Caleb’s hold and pulled him by the hand to the door. 

In Aliitya, the Jedi were mostly residing in several communal buildings that were part of the first inner circle (the closest to the Temple). Each building had suites for Master and Padawan pairs, studios for young Knights, and a common space. Some Jedi also liked to spend time with their former battalions, thus Master Koon had a suit in the inner circle and a room in the Wolffe Pack's house. Master Kenobi, since he didn't live on Lothal all year long, lived with the 212th when he was on site.

Cal and Caleb left their home and walked to the second circle, passing by communal gardens and along small greenhouses, greeting politely everyone they met. The three inner circles were built close to each other and forbidden to speeders. 

They were expected at Aliitya’s school. Due to the high number of young clones of all ages rescued from Kamino, it was one of the longest buildings, taking nearly a third of its circle, but it was divided into five parts (one for each level: crèche, kindergarten, primary school, middle school, and high school) linked by glass corridors on the first floor, allowing passage under them. The ground entrances were situated under the hallways, and students walking through them caught sight of the two padawans, waving and grinning at them. They waved back but didn’t linger.

It was an old tradition that Padawans regularly helped in the Crèche. There were no Jedi Crèche on Lothal, the Council believing it too risky when the settlement was still so new and unnecessary since the number of younglings was so low. Recruiting had hardly been a priority during the war, and many parents had believed it too risky to send their children; some were changing their mind now, but still not enough of them.

So the Padawans helped at the school instead, working with clones instead of Jedi.

The school had been organized by the Educational Corps, which had been a challenge with thousands of students and no teachers to speak of. They had recruited Jedi and vode to handle the founding of the school, but it was a temporary measure: Jedi had other priorities. Many vode were developing a taste for teaching though, but they needed to be trained. 

The school was managed by Jedi Professor Rawn, a non-binary Bothan with luxurious fur which they often braided to calm their nerves. 

“You’re going to be late,” Rawn called from their desk at the entrance. They were a stickler for punctuality.

“Sorry, professor!” The Padawans called as they passed by quickly. They knew the way, but they also could have just followed the music to the kindergarten gym. 

Each morning, kindergarten started with ‘awakening’. Students trickled in as they arrived, motivated by music, and they had only two rules until all students were ready: to keep moving, even if it was just stretching their wrists (no going back to sleep allowed), and to do so without touching each other (otherwise, that was just asking for tussles). 

That day, the night in the dormitory must have been peaceful because most clones were up and moving voluntarily. While the clones were fond of communal living, it could be rowdy, and you could always guess when a bad night had happened because they all ended up flat on the mats with just one limb moving. Caleb had seen it several times when a Lothalian illness had gone through the ranks (it had made most humans terribly sick, but the clones had just groaned and moaned about it as if it was a bad cold; Cal had been jealous when he had reappeared after ten days in bed). The memory of a gym full of hands or feet waving back and forth still made him snort.

“Cal and Leb! At last!” Meili Kocho waved through the crowd, the kids moving like water around her to respect the rule of no touching (they found avoiding each other at all costs quite funny).

Caleb made a face at his nickname, but he had long ago given up on trying to get her to stop. Now, he could only hope that it wouldn’t spread (if his old battalion heard about it, he was done for).

“Instructor Kocho?” Cal questioned her with wide eyes.

Kocho was a programming teacher when she wasn’t working on Aliitya’s security system. She wasn’t supposed to work in kindergarten, but she often played substitute when necessary. She slept next to the dormitory for this specific purpose.

“Their teacher has got morning sickness. She should be fine in a few hours. Can you handle it until then?”

“Of course,” Caleb replied confidently, pleased to have guessed right. Many teachers were vode or riduur of the vode, and some of them were pregnant or parents of infants, so this wasn’t unusual.

“Great. Just scream if the ankle-biters got you, okay?” Meili joked as she patted their shoulders. “I’ll be next door, but only get me if someone’s dying because I have to fix this stupid bug,” she grumbled, already pulling out a datapad from her jacket to glare at it as she left.

Caleb took over with a sharp whistle (taught to him by Commander Grey, and he was really proud of it, especially since Cal couldn't manage it), immediately getting the children’s attention. He clapped his hands together and walked to the front of the room. “Good morning, kids! Ready for your morning katas?”

“Yes, Padawan Dume!” they replied in their usual chorus while taking position in rows.

“Then let’s get this started!”

oOo

By midday, the two Padawans had finished their tutoring duty. While the children went to the canteen, the teenagers walked out of the school. Cal held the door open for an Omwati who thanked him with a high voice. Caleb glanced at her back.

“Which teacher is she again?”

“Lin Tsix teaches astronomy,” Cal replied, walking by his side back to the Jedi quarters. 

“Right, that’s it. She was in the Third Systems Army, right? That’s why you know her.”

“Yes, she worked with Master Kenobi. She did several scientific briefings I participated in.”

“It’s cool she stayed with the clones.”

“She’s married.”

Caleb did a double-take. “Married? To a vod?”

“To several. You don’t know the story?” At his friend’s baffled expression, Cal explained helpfully: “At the end of the war, her family asked her to come back to Omwat and accept the proposal of a childhood friend. She sent a message to a vod of the 212th to tell him that she was leaving Coruscant. She didn’t really want to, but she was worried about staying single and lonely. The vode learned about it and some showed up when she was getting ready to board. One of them kneeled — Joker, I think his name is, he went on both knees instead of one because he has mechanical legs— and proposed.”

Caleb snorted, more at his friend’s excitement at the retelling than at the story, although it was kind of cute.

Cal bounced in his steps. “She replied that she couldn’t accept because a marriage to a human would be less satisfying to her family than a marriage to an Omwati. Joker was sad, of course, so one of his vod asked: ‘Does two humans beat an omwati?’ She said: ‘I don’t know’. That vod knelt too and proposed. She hesitated, so another vod knelt and proposed.”

“Okay, now you’re joking,” Caleb protested, laughing openly. “This sounds like one of those romance holos

“No, I swear! Nimble told me the story, and he’s super serious about his vode’s riduur!”

“Fine. So, how many clones had to propose for her to yes?”

“Just those three. She joked that a harem was too much work.”

“Omwati have a sense of humor?” They were known to be smart but a bit naive and literal-minded.

“Apparently, she does, and that’s why Joker loves her.”

Caleb shook his head. “Cute story, alright.”

“They adopted twelve cadets.”

“Twelve?!”

“Yeah, you know, because they’re from the 212th,” Cal explained with a large grin. 

Caleb squinted at him. Cal grinned a bit more. Caleb reached for him and Cal dodged. “You little shit, you’re pulling my leg!”

Laughing as he ran ahead of Caleb toward their quarters, Cal threw over his shoulder: “Just about the cadets, I swear! Joker wanted twelve, but they only adopted four, because Mrs. Tsix insisted you could only have as many kids as there are arms to hug them!”

“A flawless logic.”

Cal dug his heels in to avoid knocking over the two Jedi who had appeared on his way. Caleb slowed down as well but still reached for Cal to pull his ear, ignoring his hiss of pain to greet the newcomers:

“Good day, Knight Junda, Padawan Suduri.”

Cere Junda was a tall woman with dark skin and braided hair. Trilla Suduri was a sixteen-year-old girl with olive skin and a talent for looking down at Caleb. They had arrived on Lothal only a few days ago and were only passing through from what he knew, but Caleb had met them before: Cere and Depa were friends. 

“Good day, Padawan. I was hoping you could help us. We’re looking for the library.”

“Of course. It’s in the second circle, north quadrant. So you’re on the right path but you need to walk a third of a circle. It’s the building behind the commemoration fountain,” Caleb explained with gestures of his free hand (the other one was busy trying to strangle Cal).

“Thank you, Caleb. Have a good day.”

“You as well.”

Caleb smiled politely as the two women left, even when Trilla threw them a judging glance.

“She didn’t seem to like us,” Cal murmured once they were out of hearing range.

“Master Depa says that girls her age tend to think that boys our age are too rowdy.”

“I’m not rowdy, _ you _ ’re rowdy,” Cal complained, trying to get out of Caleb’s hold. He blinked in surprise when he was suddenly free.

Caleb had straightened to greet the next people walking up to them. "Grey! Good morning."

"Hey, kiddo," the former Commander greeted him with a smile. He was followed by a young clone, around eighteen. Once the clones had finished high school, they became apprentices. Grey was a coordinator, so his apprentice must be training in management. "I just saw Master Depa. I hear you're going to the Temple this afternoon?"

"Yes."

"Good luck then."

The Temple of Lothal was very different from the one on Coruscant. It was more mystic and intense. Training in the Temple itself could only be done for short periods.

"I'll be fine," Caleb replied confidently.

"I don't doubt it," Grey replied, squeezing his shoulder before leaving with a goodbye.

Caleb watched them leave and turned around to walk back to the Jedi quarters. He was met with Cal's amused smile. "What?"

"Oh, nothing. I just think it's interesting how you turn serious and confident the moment someone from your battalion shows up. You remember you aren't a Commander anymore, right?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about. I'm always serious and confident!"

"I'm sure they're proud of you."

Caleb spluttered. "I don't care if they are or not!"

"It's okay," Cal said, patting his arm. "I still consider the 13th like big brothers too."

"That's because you're tiny and young!"

"You're only one year older than me!"

"But so much wiser... and taller."

oOo

Boil looked up from the feeding bottle he was preparing and smiled at Lin when she walked in. “Hey. How was school today?”

“Studious. I had the advanced class, and they’re good students,” she replied, kneeling to welcome the two children who ran at her. Obi and Wan knew better than to be rambunctious near their fragile mother, and they slowed down to hug her carefully, greeting her with chirping. She chirped back.

Lin had admitted that the boys’ sounds were unintelligible, but their attempts to communicate in her original tongue pleased her so much that she’d never mention it.

She nuzzled their cheeks, which she prefered to kissing since she had very thin lips and an angled mouth. They kissed her cheeks back and helped her to stand up (or pretended to: at three years old, they were too young to be of any help).

“I had a meeting with Professor Rawn as well. Some new teachers are part of the next shuttle of riduurs to arrive,” Lin explained, taking the hands of Obi and Wan and letting them draw her to the couch.

“There’s a new shuttle coming? Vode must be pleased. When does it arrive?”

“Three days. The Jedi are pleased as well, they’ll be able to go back to their own duties.”

“The cadets will be disappointed then.” 

“They promised they’d come back for regular lectures.”

Boil dropped a bit of milk on the back of his hand. Satisfied with the temperature, he stepped in one of the bedrooms where Joker could be heard distracting their youngest, Sho, from his hunger.

Wooley came out of the laundry-room with Akser on his hip. He waved at Lin, encouraged their two year old to do the same, and sat down beside his wife to hear the story she was about to read to the kids.

“Oh, shut up, Joker,” Boil could be heard complaining in the bedroom.

“It’s Joker Tsix, if you please.”

“Will you ever let that surname business go?”

“Never. You’ll pry that surname from my dead hands.”

“Just hold your son still for a minute, Mr. Tsix, would you?”

“Why, certainly, Mr. Tsix, I can do that for you.”

“It’s getting old, you know.”

“How rude. Lon is only fourteen months, he’s not  _ old _ .” 

Their little family was unconventional, but most families in Allitya were. Their mix of platonic, romantic, and asexual relationships was working out for them, and as long as their children didn’t complain, it was all that mattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cere Junda and Trilla Suduri are part of the videogame _Jedi Fallen Order_ , just like Cal Kestis and Jaro Tapal.
> 
> This chapter was written in answer to prompts from _Sunset_ (asking for padawans like Cal and Caleb as well as clones and babies; I'll see if I can write some interactions between Jedi younglings and clones later) and _Anonymous on tumblr_ (asking: "how does education for the child clones change? And how's the education system at Lothal? Are Jedi school teachers or do the kids study with non-Jedi nat-borns too?").


	5. Aayla&Bly and Cal during Order 66

oOo Aayla, a few hours after Order 66 oOo

Aayla stared at the box Galle was holding and raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

“General, Sir. I wasn’t sure what you’d like, so I brought everything.”

“Everything,” she repeated, questioning. Since no clear answer was forthcoming, she opened the box to find a strange assortment of items inside: a blanket, perfumed candles, tea, a pillow, incense, chocolate, even a hot water bottle… “What’s all this, Lieutenant?”

“It’s for you, Sir,” he said as he went to put the box next to Aayla’s bed. “To help your mourning. If you need anything else, let us know, we’ll get it… somehow.”

Aayla reached for the incense and lifted the packet so she could read the label. “Rylothian incense.”

“We heard Twi’lek often use it during funerals. We weren’t sure about Jedi customs. Master Kenobi said it varies a lot but that many Jedi like to light candles in remembrance. I hope the scents are alright. Commander Bly chose them.”

Aayla wasn’t sure what she should address first in all that information. That her men were trying to help her grieve, that they had thought of it for long enough that they had bought products, or that they had gone out of their way to ask advice of another Jedi… Probably none of it, if she didn’t want to embarrass them all.

“That’s kind of you, Lieutenant, but you shouldn’t have. Just like you, Jedi grieve quickly and privately. What’s more, we don’t have time for indulgence. I feel much better after taking the time to meditate, and I’m ready to go back to Felucia.”

“That won’t be necessary, General.”

The door had been left open, and Bly had joined them. Galle saluted and took his leave, closing the door behind him.

“What do you mean?” Aayla protested.

“I can lead and finish the mission. You should rest.”

“I’m not letting you fight a major battle without me, Commander. That’s out of the question.” She took a step toward the door. 

He took a step to block her way.

“Step aside, Commander.”

“General. With all due respect, you’re not at optimum performance. This mission doesn’t necessitate a Jedi’s presence. I can deal with it.”

“No,” Aayla stated firmly and took a step to the side to bypass him.

He moved to stop her again.

Glaring at him, she drew the Force to her and used it to destabilize him, trying to move past immediately. He grabbed her arm before she could reach the door. She pushed back. He pulled. 

Thank the Force that no trooper was here to see them fall in a heap and tussle on the floor like a bunch of unruly cadets. 

The struggle was short. Aayla didn’t resist when Bly pressed her back to the ground and sat on her legs. She huffed and glared. He blushed and straightened but didn’t apologize.

“Sir. I must insist. Your security is our priority.”

This, again, she thought. She had to take the time to investigate the issue once Felucia was secure.

“I’ll stay behind the lines. I’ll leave you to take point, but I’ll step in if necessary,” she conceded.

Bly considered his options before nodding. He understood that was the best offer he’d get. No need to make (more of) a fight out of it. “I’ll hold you to that,” he said before standing up and offering her a hand.

Pulled to her feet, Aayla stood close to her second. Their eyes met, and Bly visibly softened.

“General. I meant to say… I’m sorry for your loss.”

She nodded slowly. “Thank you. The Order has lost one of his greatest Masters… but he’s still with us, and he’d wish for us to bring this war to its end. So, that’s what I intend to do.”

“When this battle is over, please take the time you need.” Bly glanced at the box. “The men put a lot of thought in it.”

Aayla followed his eyes and smiled softly. “The men? So you didn’t choose the candles after all?”

Bly cleared his throat and pulled back self-consciously. “Well… They thought I’d have a better idea of what you might like since I uh… spend more time near you… with you.”

Her smile widened. “I’d make sure to let you know if I prefer…” She looked closer at the labels. “Sunset on Ryloth or spring of Alderaan.”

“So… ah. You plan to use them?”

“Of course. I’d hate to let all your efforts go to waste. I appreciate the thought very much, Commander.”

“I’m glad, Sir.”

oOo Two days later oOo

The battle of Felucia had been won surprisingly easily. Aayla couldn’t recall such an easy win in years. Afterward, they had learned of Grievous’ death and what had happened on Coruscant, as well as Order 66. The first points explained why the Separatists army had seemed to be lacking. The last explained the behavior of the clones. Aayla couldn't rejoice for either.

Now, they were on the way to Kamino to join Master Koon and deal with this ‘chip’. They had left another battalion behind to deal with the cleanup and secure Felucia.

Aayla had time to sleep, meditate, and honor Kit’s memory. She wouldn’t be present for his funeral, but she had rarely been on Coruscant for each friend she had lost during the war. She accepted it.

A chime of the door brought her out of her thoughts. She opened her eyes to her dark quarters only lit by three candles lined up in front of her.

“Enter.”

The silhouette of Bly was outlined in the hallway's light.

“Ah. General, am I interrupting?”

“Not at all, Commander. I was done. Please, come in. Feel free to turn on the light if you wish.”

Bly stepped inside, letting the door close behind him and plunging them into darkness. He came to sit on the floor, in front of her, on the other side of the candles. He watched their flames, mesmerized.

Aayla pushed the left one forward. “Spring of Alderaan. Go on, smell it.”

Leaning over, Bly sniffed tentatively. He hummed noncommittally.

“Sunset of Ryloth,” she said, pushing the middle one.

After a sniff, Bly made a face and pulled back.

She smiled. “Pungent, isn’t it?” 

“I feel like I should apologize for choosing it, Sir,” Bly said while pinching his nose to hold back a sneeze. 

“It was well-intentioned. You’re forgiven,” she replied before snuffing the flame with a wave of her fingers. A swirl of smoke rose in the warm light of the two other flames. She pushed the last one. “The fields of Saleucami.”

Bly leaned down for a sniff and nodded in satisfaction. “This is your favorite,” he guessed.

“It is,” she confirmed with a soft smile. “You remembered my comment on the flowers during the Siege.”

“Of course,” he confirmed as if it had never been in question, as if he remembered every word she had ever told him.

“I’m sorry this order 66 has been forced on you, Bly. This chip is abhorrent,” she said softly, looking down at the flickering light.

“Yes,” he agreed, “but we hardly needed any more incentive to protect you.”

“Indeed. I believe we can say you’re now going beyond the call of duty.”

“The battle went perfectly well, Sir. You were perfectly fine behind the lines.”

Aayla raised an amused eyebrow.

Bly rubbed the back of his head self-consciously. “I mean… respectfully, Sir… it was a perfectly sound decision.”

“I’d say a little overprotective, Commander, but we’ll have to disagree until this matter is resolved it seems.”

“Does this mean you’ll let me protect you without protest?”

“Without protest, no. But without wrestling on the floor, certainly.”

It startled a laugh out of Bly, and Aayla was awed by the beauty of the moment: the candlelight highlighting the angles of his face, the shadow of his stubble, and the brightness of his teeth bared in happiness. He felt warm and content in the Force. She felt safe and at peace as the smell of flowers and pine trees mixed and ensnared her in a timeless bubble, away from the war, away from the sterile walls of a starship.

She breathed in and held on tight to the love pushing away sadness and fear. 

The war was ending. The Dark was failing. She could see the Light. 

It was sitting right in front of her.

oOo Cal, a few hours after Obi-Wan shared the news about Order 66 oOo

Cal whined as he was jostled out of his sleep.

“Easy,” someone whispered.

“Sorry, sorry.”

Cal half-opened his eyes and raised his head, but a hand came to smooth his hair back gently.

“It’s alright, kiddo. Everything’s fine, go back to sleep.”

“‘kay, Nimble,” the padawan mumbled. He felt so safe and protected. The Force around him was warm and affectionate. He adjusted his grip around his support before immediately falling back asleep. 

Commander Nimble nodded in satisfaction and gave silent instructions to the shinies to get their little Jedi back to his room smoothly. The one carrying Cal was holding him carefully while his partner walked ahead to open the doors and activate the turbolifts for him.

“Don’t let him sleep with his shoes or belt on,” a medic whispered as the shinies passed by. “It gives him cramps.”

Burdened with a precious cargo, the shinies would take twice as long as normal to reach Cal's quarters. Many troopers would want to take a look at their cute Commander and check he was alright or ask and comment about his wellbeing.

Master Tapal watched the proceedings silently from where he was leaning over the holoprojector. They had been working on the campaign on Mygeeto, the one they were to help Master Mundi with, when his exhausted padawan had started to show signs of fatigue. A seat had been pushed forward and, despite Cal's best efforts to refuse, the insistence of the clones had prevailed. He had fallen asleep in little time.

Nimble came back to the holoprojector and resumed his explanations of the campaign underway as if nothing unusual had happened. When Jaro failed to comment however, he looked up and met his eyes. “Sir?”

“Cal wouldn’t wish to be an imposition, Commander.”

“It’s fortunate there is no way he could be then, Sir.”

Glancing at the troopers present in the room, Jaro evaluated their mood as best as he could. After Obi-Wan’s briefing, he now understood that the overprotectiveness he had observed was independent of his men’s will, but he had yet to decide how to address the issue. None of them had seemed overbearing with him, but he was self-aware enough to know that he wasn’t the kind of being people tended to worry about. He was independent and had never faltered in front of his men. They tended to view him as untouchable.

Nimble crossed his hands behind his back. “Sir?”

Focusing on his second, Jaro noticed a hint of concern. Nothing important yet but a hint of an overreaction unusual for Nimble. The compulsion was there.

Humming softly, considering, Jaro straightened, crossed his arms, and made his decision. “I have been made aware by General Kenobi that you’re following a new order called order 66. Is that correct?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“This order 66 forces you to make the life of Jedi your priority above all.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“You are of course aware that your well-being is one of  _ our  _ priorities and that shall anything happen to any of you, Cal would be devastated.”

“Sir?”

Jaro closed the distance between them and rested a hand on Nimble’s shoulder. “Inform your men that shall they do anything foolish to endanger themselves in an attempt to protect us… I’ll let Cal know.” He pulled away and walked to the door. “We’ll resume in the morning.”

“Sir!” Nimble protested. “We don’t want to be an imposition on Commander Kestis either.”

“Then don’t be foolish,” Jaro concluded with a smile. He could use their new obsession to his benefit. He would have to brief Cal in the morning, but his padawan could give as much as he got in overprotectiveness. The clones couldn’t go overboard if Cal made sure they took care of themselves. It would train his sense of observation as well, an excellent exercise.

Until this chip could be dealt with, it would do. 

oOo Two days later, on Mygeeto oOo

“Hello. Commander Bacara, right?”

“Yes, Sir.” 

Bacara blinked down at the kid who was looking up at him with a wide smile. He had never worked with a padawan before. Master Mundi didn’t have one, and they had never partnered closely with another. He wasn’t sure how to deal with this one. He looked like a cadet, far too young to be in the field. Bacara was tempted to grab him, bundle him in protective gear, and throw him in the next transport going back to the ships in orbit. 

“Sir, you should go back to the officers’ tent,” he said instead. That seemed like a good alternative.

Smiling wider, Cal replied: “I will if you come with me.”

“Sir? Your bodyguard can take you there.” 

Although if that 13th’s trooper hadn’t stopped his Commander from coming here, to the edge of their camp, he was unfit for his duty. He should tell Nimble to replace him.

“Oh, yes. Shield can,” Cal agreed, glancing to the side to grin at his shadow, “but I came here to take you with me.”

“Sir?”

“Master Mundi says you’re getting overworked. He’s worried about you. I volunteered to take you back.” And he offered his hand expectantly.

Bacara glanced at Shield who made quick signs behind his Commander’s back: 

“Follow the order. Victory impossible.”

Still smiling, Cal commented: “I’m not going back without you.”

Shield added frantically: “Hostage situation. Surrender!”

Bacara stared at the hand offered, baffled beyond measure. He had to get the small Jedi back to the protected tent, but he also had to guarantee the protection of the Jedi by checking the camp’s security. “Sir, I outrank you. I could order you to.”

The smile disappeared, and the kid’s face did a weird thing as if it was crumbling. Bacara felt like his heart was breaking with it, and Shield actually made a noise of distress at the sight. 

Two minutes later, Bacara was pulled inside the officers’ tent by a twelve-years-old holding his hand with a pleased smile. 

“He’s here, Master Mundi!” Cal announced before letting go of his new friend and going to sit at a table by his Master’s side.

“Well done, Padawan. You have done what I couldn’t,” Ki-Adi-Mundi commented before gesturing his Commander toward the caf available.

Bacara complied, if only to reach Nimble and whisper to him: “What the kark is wrong with your Commander?!”

“He nearly made the Commander cry,” Shield snitched, just a step behind.

“I didn’t!” Bacara defended himself before Nimble could do more than squint at him. 

Chuckling to himself, Nimble sipped his cup of caf. “It’s alright, vod. No-one can say no to the kid. It’s just how it is. It shouldn’t affect your reputation… much.”

Bacara removed his helmet and glared at Nimble’s smug expression. “There’s something very wrong with your Commander’s face. You should have him checked by a medic… in a medical center…  _ on your flagship _ .”

Laughing at him, Nimble crossed his arms and waved at Cal when the kid glanced his way. “Nope. He’s just fine where I can keep an eye on him.” Nimble tilted his head to stare at Bacara and grinned. “You’ll just have to get used to not having the last word anymore around here.”

“Kriffing 13th,” Bacara muttered to himself as he served himself some caf. He needed it, badly. Jedi were a walking headache, and the young ones were the worst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for _ImplorngIdeal_ (who requested more protective clones) and _Seshat_Ra_ (who requested more interactions during Order 66) as well as many general requests for more Blyala.


	6. Meili Kocho and Boba Fett

Boba stared at his com and gritted his teeth, hesitating. He turned on the holo one more time and observed it as critically as he could.

Meili was as he remembered her, unchanged by four years, nearly five, of separation. She still had the extra weight she had gained over her years on Kamino. The clothes were different than the style he remembered, more fluffy, less sleek. That wasn’t a surprise, though, she had repeated that once away from Kamino the second thing she would buy was a new wardrobe, hadn’t she? The first one being obviously sweets. 

“Hello, darling. Congratulations on your ability to disappear. You’re making good use of what I taught you, I can tell. As annoying as it was to contact you, at least you might be safe. As I’m a bit easier to find, I was hoping you’d contact me first…”

He didn’t feel guilty about that and the way she paused... he didn’t.

“I choose to believe your call has been lost in the void between communication relays,” she said with forced cheerfulness. “I miss you terribly, Boba, and I’m at the end of my legendary patience.”

He scoffed. The only time she ever used patience was for slicing.

“I want to know how you’re doing, how you have grown, how good is your scowl compared to your buir nowadays, and how much I should tease you about your growth spurt. I just… want to see you again. I guess you wouldn’t accept an invitation to Lothal, so I’m sending you a time and a place. I’ll be there. Hopefully, you will be as well, without anyone looking for my bounty to spoil our party. That would be a pity, and I'd never hear the end of it by the vode. They inherited Jango's judgemental stare, and that's not cool. You did it enough when you were three and didn't want to get a haircut... Anyway. Be there. No-one else. Yeah. That would be great. See you soon, sugar plum.”

He winced at the pet name. That was her, alright. No-one else would be daft enough to call him that. He glanced at the data provided and bit his bottom lip, hesitating. The Mid-Rim planet she had chosen was a compromise between her security and his wariness, and like most compromises, it probably didn’t satisfy either of them. The question was if she was worth the trouble… 

He hissed curses under his breath. 

Who was he kidding? She was the closest thing to a  _ buir  _ he had left. Bossk was more of a  _ ba’vodu. _ And, he would admit it to no-one, but he missed her.

oOo Kamino, eight years before Order 66 oOo

“Mei,” Boba whined, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

“Coming, sweetie,” she replied from the kitchen, finishing the drink she was preparing before coming back to the couch. 

Boba immediately crawled back in her lap, and she adjusted a blanket around his shoulders, checking his forehead’s temperature in passing. His fever had finally broken. Good. She helped the young boy drink the hot chocolate without spilling it everywhere and rubbed his back when he made a face at his sore throat. Once he had drunk enough, he hid his sweaty face against her neck. A sick Boba was a very grumpy but possessive and cuddly Boba.

They watched cartoons together. Meili selected the calmest ones and was soon rewarded by a sleepy kid. 

Half an hour later, Jango found her watching cartoons to a sound level so low you could barely hear anything. She was finishing the hot chocolate.

“How was your meeting?” she asked distractedly, focused on a fluffy wookie hugging a small Rhodian. How cute.

“Boring. Boba?” 

“His fever broke. He didn’t want anything to eat, but I got him to drink some hot chocolate, and he has been sleeping for ten minutes now.”

“Thanks for watching him.”

She hummed. “The babysitter is happy to serve and be paid in food.”

Smiling slightly, Jango squeezed her shoulder before walking around the couch to lift his son. Unfortunately, he was holding Meili so tightly that it woke him up.

“Buir,” he mumbled, embracing his father without hesitation.

Meili watched as Jango whispered sweet words of comfort in Mando'a to his son and carried him to bed. He left the door to the bedroom open, and she strained her ears to catch Boba’s sleepy question: “Buir. Is Mei gonna be buir too?”

“Would you like her to be?”

“She’s okay. Better than the others.”

The others being the Cuy’val Dar, and old and annoying people. That didn’t mean much, Mei thought with a pout, but she’d still take it. Hey, ‘okay’ was a great compliment in the mouth of a Fett.

There was no answer from Jango, and she guessed that Boba had fallen asleep since he came out soon and closed the door behind him.

Meili pressed her cheek to the couch to face him and ask: “Holo night?”

“Sure,” he agreed, going to the kitchen to prepare dinner. He was no gourmet cook, but he was still better than Meili, who only knew how to do desserts… which was one of the many reasons why she spent so much time in his quarters. 

“I found a doc I think you’d like,” she said, changing the channel. 

Jango wasn’t a big holo fan as a rule unless it was documentaries. She had always been amazed by his level of knowledge, and it turned out that it wasn’t inborn. You had to work to increase your general knowledge. Incredible! 

Meili was catering to his tastes and learning so much that her uncle would probably call her a brainiac following in her parents’ footsteps if he was around. She hadn’t watched any soap operas in ages. Teenage her would be amazed.

“What about?”

With his knowledge, it meant it was hard to find something he didn’t know about, but she had never backed down from a challenge. Her research skills were damn good, and she could find the most obscure docs ever.

“It’s about a warrior species, the Keelash.”

“Kaleesh,” Jango immediately corrected.

“Oh, you know them?” 

“By name. It will do.”

“Awesome. What are you making?”

Tasty spicy stir fry, as it turned out. Meili enjoyed it in silence as she learned about the crazy Kaleesh and the crazier Yam’rii who tried to invade and enslave them all. Wow, so many people needed to chill. Seriously. They should take her example. She was chill. She hadn’t said more than a few words since the holo had started because Jango was very insistent about no commentary during holo-watching. And that wasn’t a problem! At all. She could do quiet. 

People really needed to learn to chill like her.

“Just spit it out,” Jango said when the credits rolled out.

“Is it true that Mandalorians only have sex when married?” she blurted out immediately. When Jango slowly turned to eye her judgmentally, she explained sheepishly: “I watched a doc.” All the documentaries she ever watched alone were about Mandalorians. Obviously, Jango didn’t need to watch those, but she needed to know.

He sighed and stood up, getting the empty plates to put them in the dishwasher. “No.”

Before Meili could follow up with a new question, he added:

“They only have sex with someone they could marry, the Mandalorian way. And that's only the traditionalists.”

Which he was, obviously. The other Mandalorians in the Cuy’val Dar teased him enough about it (behind his back).

Her growing hope was doused. “Oh,” she let out and went to retrieve her datastick out of the holoprojector. She knew what that meant. She wasn’t Mandalorian, so she could forget her silly dreams. Yep. That’s what she thought. Silly Meili. “Thanks for dinner,” she said, louder than necessary. “I’ll let you check on the cupcake then. See you tomorrow!” She left without delay to lick her wounds in private.

Jango glanced at the door for a moment before nodding and going to check on Boba. That’s what he thought. She wasn’t interested in being Mando’ad. This couldn’t work.

oOo Euceron, nine years later oOo

Euceron was on the Perlemian hyperroute, thus benefiting from a lot of trading and visitors, but it was also well known for smuggling and various illegal activities. It catered to many kinds of people and thus was a good compromise as a rendezvous point.

The meeting place Meili had chosen was the same: no cantina — too much risk of attracting the attention of the wrong crowd — just a park. A city park with kids playing on the playground and teenagers hanging around the stairs, but also tourists taking a break from their visit. The exact meeting point was a bench in front of a fountain.

Boba noticed many spots from which people would have a good view of the bench. He guessed that’s where at least half a dozen vode would be watching from. He noticed a few hints that they were already there. 

Meili was waiting. She was sitting with her legs crossed, eating some street food from a flimsi package, something sweet, no doubt. Her wardrobe had changed, as she had promised. There were more fur, more modern lines, and a better cut to flatter her larger curves. Her boots hadn’t changed, she was particular about her shoes. Her hair hadn’t either. Still long. Still done in whatever mess she felt like that day. It looked like a braid… Boba had always liked her braids. He had asked her to teach her how to do it for her… That was probably a coincidence.

Boba glanced at the time. Soon. He bit his lips, pushed his hands in his pockets, and stepped ahead. He had come this far, he wouldn’t leave without seeing her. He was no coward.

He passed by a man lying on a bench with his face covered by his arm. A vod. 

When he walked up to her, she immediately looked his way, not even pretending that she hadn’t been warned. She could do undercover, she had once told him, but it was too much work to bother most of the time.

A smile stretched her lips and lit up her whole face. “You came!” she said in delight. She jumped on her feet and went to hug him before stopping herself with her arms open. “Can I hug you?”

Boba hesitated, but who was he kidding? There was a reason he had come. “Yeah, I guess.”

She made a pleased noise before embracing him tightly and balancing from one foot to the other. “How you have grown! I couldn’t do that standing straight last time I saw you!”

“I’m fourteen now,” he pointed out defensively.

“I know! I have so many birthday presents and cakes to give you!” She let him go with a brilliant smile. “Oh, I’m so happy to see you!” She cupped his face in her hands.

“Are you going to cry?” he asked warily.

“I’m trying not to,” she replied, scrunching her nose. “I know you don’t like it, but I really want to.”

“I appreciate the effort,” he admitted. She was the only person he cared for that he ever saw cry (after holomovies, of all things), and he didn’t know what to do when it happened except giving her a handkerchief. It was awkward. He had judged her a little aloud, asked his father about it afterward, and learned that's just how some people were like ("just let her get it out of her system, Boba, she'll feel better after"). People were weird.

She pulled him back to the bench and shared with him the food she had bought: some kind of caramelized nuts. Boba accepted it because fussing helped her calm down and hide her sniffles.

“So,” she said with false cheer. “Tell me everything. How are you? What do you do? Do you need anything? Does someone take care of you? Do I need to hack anything for you? Did you hack anything cool lately? Do you eat enough?” 

She babbled. It was soothing. He had grown up with her babbling as background noise, and he hadn’t realized how much he had missed it. Talking to her was easy, which never happened with anyone else. He just had to let out a few words, and she understood everything he meant, asked a following question, got a few more words, and so on and so forth. There was no chiding, no reproach, just… fussing and jokes. He should probably not enjoy that as much as he did. 

After long minutes, they had talked enough that he felt confident to ask a question of his own: “What did you do… when you learned about buir?”

She stared at the fountain in front of them, her smile fading like snow in the sun. “I…” She glanced at her food and ate a few more nuts. “Kal told me when the news reached Kamino. He came to my quarters and left just after, so I… well, I cried a lot,” she admitted with a self-deprecating laugh. He didn't judge her for that. He had cried too. He wouldn't say so, though. “He said you had disappeared from the battlefield, so... I was hoping you’d call me.”

But he never did.

Boba stared at his hands, remembering his father’s helmet cradled in them. “You fought with buir… before we left.”

“You remember that? … Is that why you didn’t call?”

“He didn’t want to tell me why,” Boba said without answering.

She sniffed. “It wasn’t really our first fight. You might not remember, but we had disagreements, especially at the end. I… I asked him a lot of questions about the clones and the army that he didn’t want to answer. Over the years, it became a point of contention between us. That time before you left, it was worse, because he was leaving more, taking bounties again without giving me details, and I felt like something bad would happen, so I refused to take his silence for an answer…”

“It wasn’t about me?”

“About you? Of course not! Why would it be?”

“I heard you, one time, arguing about you adopting me. You were loud.”

“Oh. Dear, I wasn’t loud because we were arguing. I was loud because I was drunk. I was trying to convince him to put my name in your paperwork, as a godmother, or whatever, in case something happened to him, but he said you could only be adopted the Mandalorian way, so I said that I’d be delighted to… Well, that’s what I meant to say but I had a bit too many glasses by then and I started talking about wearing tin cans…”

“I heard you wrestle.”

“Yeah, that’s because the jerk teased that I’d need a tin barrel instead of a tin can. Like, rude! I took on a little weight, true, but still rude. So I jumped on him, obviously, and we ended up rolling on the floor… I’m not quite sure how that ended, now that I think about it… I probably passed out on him, and he carried me to bed. It wouldn’t have been the first time.”

Boba stared at her in fascinated bafflement. “You really are a lightweight.”

“Totally. So yeah, we never really argued about you.”

“Did you really want to adopt me?”

“Sure. Still do,” she confirmed, chewing nuts. “The tin can thing was a bit of an issue, mind you. No offense to Mandalorians, but I’m kinda claustrophobic so not a fan of helmets. By the way, I guess this is a good time to tell you that I’d like us to stay together.”

“Wha—”

“Hear me out. I know you’re a big boy and that you can take care of yourself and have been doing so since… then. However, I really miss you, you really worry me, I am very attached to you, you deserve someone to take care of you, and you have a volunteer right here," she joked, teasing, before going very serious. "So, yeah. Let’s stay together.”

Boba blinked and then blurted out: “I’m not staying anywhere near Jedi!”

She nodded slowly. “I guess you’d say that. It’s fine. I’ll give them my resignation. That’s cool. I’ll come with you.”

“You can’t!”

“Why not? You didn’t say you didn’t want me,” she pointed out with wide innocent eyes.

He scowled. “You have a huge bounty on your head!” 

“Yeaaah, there is that. But it’s fine, you won’t try to get it, right?”

“Of course not,” Boba replied, offended, “but people I talk to are bounty hunters!”

“Yes, yes, it’s an issue,” she admitted, nodding. “I’ll just have to go incognito, I guess. I’ll paint my skin. You’ll introduce me as your aunt, or something." Her eyes became distant. "You know, by the end, I'm pretty sure Jango considered me more like an annoying little sister, so it fits.”

“You hate undercover!”

“Sacrifices have to be made,” she replied, fatalistic. 

“It’s out of the question! Are you mad? The danger would be—”

“Worth it.”

“You’re totally mad. Kriff. Buir warned me.”

“He did?” 

“He said you were like a soldier that hit their head too many times and needed to be cared for.”

“Aww. I have to be cared for, that’s cute." She mumbled to herself: "Yep. Totally the little sister. I knew it." She made a face and then shrugged. "Anyway, so I’d need to buy some skin paint and make a few calls—”

“No.”

“—but after that, we should be able to leave.”

Boba glared at her, unimpressed. 

She batted her lashes at him before offering slowly: “Or… we could find a compromise.”

“What kind of compromise?”

“You live a week with me every month on Lothal but not on Aliitya, in the capital, away from the Jedi, but with me. What do you think?”

He made a face, considered this option for a moment, and then replied: “Every two months.”

“Deal!” she agreed in delight, raising her hand.

He grunted before reluctantly giving her one of her silly ‘high-fives’. He felt like he had just been had and this was her plan all along. He glared at her, just for playing him. He wasn’t too upset about the outcome.

She patted his cheek. “I still have much to teach you, sugarplum... More nuts?”

oOo

Meili watched Boba leave with a mix of sadness and elation. He had promised to meet her on Lothal in two weeks, once he had arranged things with Bossk (and Meili needed to do something to thank that guy for taking care of her kid... did Trandoshan like cakes?). At least, this time she was confident that she would see him again. He had come (and that had been uncertain, she hadn't known if his feelings for her had changed...), so he truly considered her like family, he would continue to come. That was good, that was...

A handkerchief showed up under her nose and she accepted it with a word of thanks to dry her tears and blow her nose loudly.

Her tears were of happiness and relief. She had really been afraid he wouldn't come, and even more so that he wouldn't agree to spend time with her on Lothal.

"Did it go well?" Sinker asked.

"Yeah, yeah, it did," she confirmed with a shaky smile.

"Good," the vod said before lifting his wrist com to his lips. "It's all good, Wolffe. No need to tranq the kid." 

"Too bad. It was a good abduction plan," was the reply. 

Meili rolled her eyes. Bly had been her first choice to accompany her, but Aayla had needed him, and she ended up with the Wolffe Pack. Those guys needed to chill, a lot… They probably didn’t eat enough sugar.

"Let's get ice-cream," she decided. She deserved some.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written in answer to the prompts of _DragonCrusader23, Blissfullyuncaring_ and _MeyrinStar_ , who all asked about Boba. :)
> 
> I'm not taking prompts for this series anymore. I have two more chapters mostly written coming soon and prompts for at least half a dozen more (I have no idea if I'll manage to write them all...), so I think that's enough for this story. :)


	7. Plo Koon and the Wolffe Pack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Trigger warning:** death of unborn children (this covers what's mentioned in Chapter 15 of _if (hear: “Execute Order sixty-six”)_ , the death of the unborn clones, so angst ahead).

oOo A few days after Order 66 oOo

Plo awoke to a wave of distress, pain, and panic. He immediately put on his mask and goggles to leave the safe space of his enclosed bed, pulled on the first layer of his clothes next, and grabbed the rest. He was out of the door of his quarters by the time his comm rang.

“General, this is Lux,” a panicked voice greeted him. Lux was the head medic for the night shift. He was usually perfectly composed. “The natal support systems are in critical failure. We’re losing the kids!”

“I’m on my way,” Plo said, trying to infuse his voice with the calm his subordinate needed. He was running, using the Force to supplement his speed. “What happened?”

“We don’t know! Everything was perfectly fine, and then all systems failed one after the other!”

Plo slid into a turbolift and slammed the command for the cargo space, the only space big enough for the natal tanks. He put on his robes. “What can you do?”

“We can’t find any flaw! It must be a bug, but all our attempts to debug the systems are failing.”

“Can you reboot it?”

“It takes five minutes to reboot. It will be too long for the embryos, they wouldn’t survive it!”

“The fetus?”

“Some… some of the oldest might survive.”

“Do you have another idea right  _ now _ ?”

“No!”

“Do you have time to find one?”

“No...”

Plo closed his eyes and nodded. “Reboot them.”

“Yes, Sir,” Lux replied, resigned, recognizing it was their only option.

When Plo reached the first cargo bay, he felt like he was entering a morgue. The embryos were too young for their death to be felt in the Force individually, but together they left tiny echos forming a greater one which he felt to his core. That was of course without speaking of the medics' extremely troubled state of mind, stressed and desperate.

“Lux?” Plo called softly.

“Sir,” the medic replied without turning away from what he was doing. “The systems are rebooting. Two minutes left. The tanks are failing one by one, I’m not sure—” He cut himself abruptly. “We’re trying to save as many as we can, Sir. I don’t know if we can.”

Each batch was composed of ten tanks. Lights indicated the life signals of each being it sustained. Green lights were turning orange. Orange ones were turning red.

Plo went to his knees in the middle of the cargo bay while medics, all woken up for the emergency, were running around trying to save as many of their little brothers as they could.

Plo closed his eyes, rested the back of his hands on his knees, and reached into the Force. He spread his awareness and felt every spark of life fighting to survive. He reached for them, slowed their metabolism, and fed them energy. He protected them, as much as he could, as much as the Force allowed. He held them like they were his and, as spark after spark faded, he kept going, staying focused, determined. 

They stopped fading.

“General,” a soft voice called him back. “The systems are back online. They’re working.”

Plo didn’t open his eyes, keeping watch on those little sparks behind his eyes. “How many?”

Lux swallowed. “Only three batches in this bay. The other announces the same. They were the eldest. The others… weren’t mature enough. There were— Some held on, but… they wouldn’t have been viable, we had to… we ended their suffering.”

Plo opened his eyes when Lux’s voice died. 

“You did your best,” he said softly.

“It wasn’t enough. I don’t know what you did, but it slowed the process. I’m not even sure we could have saved any without you,” he replied between a few furious sniffs.

“We all did our best,” Plo repeated softly. He needed the reminder as well. 

Footsteps sounded loudly in the hallway, and a running Wolffe appeared at the door, breathing fast. He was only wearing his blacks, proof that he had also been awoken suddenly and hadn’t taken the time to dress. He took in the bay with its thousands of red lights and understood without a word needed. Grief flashed in his eyes to be replaced by anger. “What happened?” he asked, growling. “All of them? How could that have happened?!”

Lux sniffed louder and straightened at his Commander’s arrival. “We don’t know, Sir. They all failed, one after another. That can’t be a coincidence.”

And if it wasn’t, it was sabotage, and they all knew the ones responsible.

“I’ll kill them,” Wolffe growled, his face twisted in rage.

Plo stood up slowly. “You’ll first take care of your people, Commander,” he said calmly, bringing his Commander back to their first priority, always.

“Of course, General,” Wolffe replied as a reflex, before his brain truly caught on with the order and reminder. He went to do a round and check on every medic. They were all badly shaken. They had been trained for the worst injuries and situations that combat could offer, but this was different. This was senseless, and they had felt helpless. Their distress rang loudly in the Force. 

Lux, due to his position, was trying even more than the others to keep his composure, but Plo took a step forward and held him. Lux stiffened briefly before leaning into the hug and holding on tightly onto his General’s shoulders. His sniffles became more pronounced. Plo rubbed circles onto his back, humming a soft comforting tune. The touch and the feeling of helping another allowed him to focus on something else than his own grief, releasing it into the Force so he could properly care for those who were still among them.

When the rest of the 104th battalion woke up and heard the news in the morning, the training grounds were filled with angry soldiers needing to vent, but they also reached for their medics and offered comfort in every form it was needed. They were the Wolffe Pack. They licked their wounds together.

oOo Three years later to the day, on Lothal oOo

Wolffe stared out of the window with a frustrated scowl. It was just their luck that today, of all days, they were stuck in one of the worst snowstorms they had lived through on Lothal. Today was a bad day for the Wolffe Pack, and they always felt better when they could go and work off their bad memories and anger in the field. They couldn’t even go and see the cubs at the Crèche. The Sixty were officially three today, they should celebrate that! Some of the kids had after-effects of their life support failure, although thankfully none had severe handicaps. The Wolffe Pack always made sure to give them the best life they could wish for, so they wouldn’t feel flawed and wrong compared to their healthier, older counterparts.

Small feet stopped quietly next to him. He ignored them.

“Wolffe,” an unusually soft voice called him.

He glanced at his General’s Padawan warily. “What?”

Zatt didn’t even blink at the sharp question. He reached for his sleeve. “Come,” he said, and it sounded strangely like an order. The two of them had a strange relationship, but Zatt was rarely serious about it. 

Wolffe followed, for lack of anything better to do. 

The Nautolan led him into the common living room of the Wolffe Pack where most of them were already gathered, including Plo Koon. 

“Sit,” Zatt told Wolffe, pointing at a pillow next to Plo.

“What’s going on?” 

“Now that you’re here, my Padawan might let us know,” Plo said, turning questioningly toward the teenager.

Without answering, Zatt went to turn off the light, and then, with another click, thousands of sparks appeared in the dark room, to the surprised awe of them all. On the ceilings, walls, and floating around them, there were literally thousands of tiny lights. It was beautiful.

“I know you always go and light candles on this day, and you can’t do that today,” Zatt explained softly, hesitant. “So, uh… I thought this might be the next best thing. It’s, uh, a system that I created with—” He was cut off when Wolffe grabbed him and pulled him down into a side hug. He tensed, expecting some noogie or roughhousing, but Wolffe simply held him close, including him into what was turning into a giant group hug.

“You’re okay, kid,” Wolffe commented softly.

Zatt softened and leaned into the touch. “Yeah… you too, I guess.” He glanced toward his Master. Plo caught his eyes and shared his pleasure and gratefulness at the thoughtful gesture. Zatt looked down, blushing, and needed a moment to gather his wits enough to add: “Also. I managed to get a call through the storm to the Crèche. Miss Kocho said she’d get the Sixty Cubs gathered around the comm in ten minutes.”

Wolffe patted Zatt’s head as he thanked him. 

That felt better than a noogie.

Late in the evening, Plo rose from the mess of limbs in which the Wolffe Pack had spent the end of their day. While he loved nothing more than to be among his men, his biology required some special care that he couldn't neglect. 

"Do you want me to take him back to his room?" he asked Wolffe softly.

The man grunted and rubbed Zatt's back who hummed approvingly in his sleep. The kid was snuggled against his side. "It's fine. Leave him."

"It's good to see you getting on."

Wolffe snorted. "I guess we can make a wolf out of him... one day."

"I have no doubt you will."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for an _anon_ on tumblr (who asked for "one shot about what exactly happened with plo koon, wolffe and their men when the kaminoans killed the baby clones") and _Seshat_Ra_ to whom I had promised something like that.


	8. Obi-Wan and the Jedi Order's improvements

oOo Thirteen months after Order 66 oOo

It was past the lunch rush at Dex’s Diner. Obi-Wan was sitting at a table with a companion, in a corner where they wouldn't be overheard.

“Senator Ask Aak of Malastare has been dismissed due to the latest revelations made by Pola Fertii. The proofs of his dealings with Palpatine and his embezzling that impoverished the Dugs produced quite an outcry. ”

Skirata grunted in disinterest. He had arrived late to their meeting and was still eating his dessert with gusto. “I don’t care about politics.”

“Not even in this particular case?” 

“You’re fishing, Kenobi? Fertii isn’t keeping you in the loop enough?”

“Oh, she knows how to keep a secret, I assure you. I mainly received a present for ‘sending her an informant knowledgeable enough to keep her working for years’. I’m looking forward to her future news reports.”

“Jedi accept presents?”

“Refusing presents is seen as a slight by most cultures, and I have never been known to refuse a good collection of tea.” 

“Good to know if I had to poison you,” Skirata commented with a smirk.

“Yes, because that’s extremely likely from a Mando’ad,” Obi-Wan replied with sarcasm.

Kal Skirata snorted and then shrugged. “I only did it for revenge, Kenobi. Don’t get any idea about politics. All those Senators were so eager to throw the boys to the mincer. Well, let’s see how they like it when it’s their head on the line, uh?”

Obi-Wan hummed and reached for his cup of tea now that it had brewed long enough. “I see.”

“What? Not good enough for you, Jetii?”

“On the contrary,” Obi-Wan said before sipping his tea calmly.

Pushing his empty plate away, Skirata frowned and crossed his arms before looking pointedly around them. “Where’s your shadow?”

Humming questioningly, Obi-Wan looked up to thank FLO, the waitress droid, as she put down a caf in front of Skirata.

“Cody. I heard you were inseparable.”

“Did you?”

“My boys sometimes stop by Lothal. Rumors have it that you and that blue twi’lek—”

“Master Secura.”

“—are getting close to your ex-Commanders.” When Obi-Wan simply raised a questioning eyebrow in a silent “And?”, Kal huffed, leaned forward, ignoring his coffee, and added: “It’s interesting how the hypocrisy has just gone rampant in your Council. I thought Mundi was supposed to be an exception.”

Obi-Wan slowly put down his cup and mirrored Kal’s position to look him in the eyes and reply: “Master Mundi’s polygamous marriage was indeed an exception dictated by the low fertility of his species and their cultural obligation to marry before reproducing. Cereans are one species among several allowed this exemption among the Jedi Order. The ban regarding marriage is still in order and neither Master Secura nor I plan to go against it.”

Kal made a disparaging face. 

“Why don’t you ask what bothers you instead of disparaging the family of a man who has lost them all to the war?”

“What?”

“The Mundi family was part of the victims of the Battle of Cerea. His children and wives… all of them are dead. Master Mundi is a widower and grieves his daughters.”

“...I didn’t know.”

“And you didn’t care. Nor did you care about the complexity and emotional drain of having a family while doing one’s duty as a Jedi,” Obi-Wan stated, not meanly but sternly. He leaned back and reached for his cup. “The subject is complex enough and delicate enough when discussed among the Order. Why are you interested?”

Skirata didn’t reply. Obi-Wan took a moment to think, sipping his tea. When he put the cup down, he let out a small sigh.

“Did you adopt a Jedi? Or did one of your children fell in love with one?” He sighed anew when there was no reply, which was enough of a confirmation. “It matters little I suppose. Did they marry or have children?”

“They do what they damn want, Kenobi. After this kriffing war, they’re owed as much happiness as they can get!” Kal hissed, leaning close, aggressive in the defense of his clan.

Once again, it was confirmation enough, and Obi-Wan tapped his cup with his nails. “And I wish them as much of it as they can find, but if you think that a Jedi can live happily torn between the Order and their family, I’d warn you that experience has proven otherwise.” 

“So you’d rather they had none.”

“So we are warned that we can’t have both.”

“And if they do, they are demoted to farmers.”

“They are transferred to the Service Corps,” Obi-Wan corrected calmly. “It provides a more suitable life, compatible with a family and with lower risks of Falling to the Dark Side.”

Kal snorted disdainfully and drank his caf in big mouthfuls. “And then what? The kids are snatched and sent to your Crèche, never to be seen again by their parents?”

“The children of Jedi are not always Force-sensitive, but when they are, it is the choice of their parents, just like any other parents, to decide if they are sent to the Crèche or not. As members of the Order, they often have the opportunity to see them again.”

“But they don’t raise them.”

“That is indeed the point of the Crèche,” Obi-Wan commented sarcastically.

“It’s wrong.”

“You mean that it’s not the Mandalorian way. Your disdain for other cultures aside, does this conversation have a point?”

“My step-daughter is a Jedi,” he finally admitted after a moment of thought. “She has a son. She doesn’t want to leave the Order. What are her options?”

“To admit to her situation and ask a transfer to the Corps.”

“She isn’t a farmer!”

“It isn’t her only option. The Service Corps include the Explorational Corps, Educational Corps, and Medical Corps as well as the Agricultural Corps. If she admits to her situation and makes a specific request, she has a better chance to get what she wants than if she is discovered.”

Kal relaxed somewhat. “She would be a good teacher,” he murmured to himself, thoughtful. “She’d like that… What of her husband?”

“What of him?”

“Would you keep them separated?”

“Are we jailers?” Obi-Wan replied disdainfully. “Jedi, once they reach maturity, are free to go as they please. As long as she fulfills her responsibilities, her life is her own. If you’re asking if they could live together in the Order’s facilities, I’ll take a guess and assume that her husband is a clone. Therefore, he’s eligible to the new rule of hospitality stating that a Jedi may host an ally of the Order in their quarters.”

Kal nodded slowly and let his eyes wander to the familiar silhouette stepping in the diner. “Speaking of hosting someone in your quarters…”

Ignoring Kal’s comment, Obi-Wan smiled at Cody as he reached their table. He moved closer to the window to leave him space on the booth seat. 

“Sir,” Cody greeted Skirata formally, offering his hand.

Kal clapped his forearm. “Call me Kal. How are you doing?”

“Well, thank you.” Cody sat down next to Obi-Wan, smiling to him and reaching for his thigh, squeezing it in greeting. 

“How was Gree?” Obi-Wan asked.

“Having the time of his life,” Cody replied with an amused smile. “This was what he had been dreaming about: visiting the galaxy and meeting different species, especially obscure ones, ancient or new. Three hours of downtime in Coruscant was nearly too much for his tastes. All I heard was a lecture about xenospecies and very little about himself. I gathered he was happy with the Exploration Corps. Which is all that matters, I suppose.”

“Clones can join your Corps?” Kal asked, frowning in thought.

“Yes, many clones have been hired by the Corps,” Obi-Wan confirmed as he turned unconsciously toward Cody, offering his thigh in easier reach. “It was a somewhat unusual practice before the War, but with the decline of our numbers and the rise in candidates… well, the change in policy was an obvious choice.”

Kal nodded and stood up. “Alright. Thanks for the answers, Kenobi. I’ll see you around, Cody.”

He left with little more formalities.

“Are you alright?” Cody asked his riduur. He had noticed how guarded he looked when he arrived as if he had gone through negotiations instead of a friendly meeting. 

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said, reassuring, but he slid closer to his lover so their arms brushed, and he leaned into the embrace of an arm sliding around his waist. “Of course, now you’re here.”

The comment, as much teasing as truth, pulled up the corners of Cody’s lips. He rubbed Obi-Wan’s hip with his thumb. “Where is Katooni?”

“In the kitchen. Dex is teaching her a new recipe. Very caloric, I believe, to fatten me up a little more.”

Chuckling, Cody leaned back and called FLO to ask for a caf. “Then we shouldn’t interrupt.”

“Tell me about Gree,” Obi-Wan asked, closing his eyes to focus on the warm and comforting voice of his lover. 

Among all the demands, complaints and debates he had to go through daily, Cody was his anchor of calm and serenity. Reforming and improving the Jedi Order after the ordeal they went through was necessary but also slow, complex, and difficult. Obi-Wan dedicated himself to the task, but without Cody’s support he might have burnt out long ago.

oOo A few weeks later oOo

If asked, Cody would admit he prefered their time on Lothal to Coruscant. Part of it was the larger number of his vode on-site, especially members of the 212th, and part of it was the more relaxed mood of Aliitya and its Temple. Obi-Wan himself was more at ease on Lothal, even if he wouldn’t admit it.

It was winter in Aliitya. The ground was covered with a good layer of snow, some flakes were falling from time to time, and the weather stayed constantly around -5°C with little change of temperature. In this weather, the tundra was strangely gorgeous and peaceful. 

The wide plains were useful for the activities that the vode had become so fond of, such as the snowball fights currently ongoing on Cody’s right, or the sled races ongoing on his left. 

Obi-Wan laughed as Comet’s sled, nudged out of his course by a very bold move of Wolffe’s, passed in front of them, and crossed over the snowball ground amid vivid protestations and men dodging with acrobatics.

Cody watched his riduur fondly, pleased by the red on his cheeks brought by the cold as much as happiness. The fur coat he was bundled in made him look fluffy, and Cody didn’t bother resisting the urge to pull him in his embrace. 

Obi-Wan leaned into him easily and grinned with shining eyes. “Why are they so close to each other? This is bound to end badly.”

“That’s half the fun of it for them, I suppose. It’s just better for everyone involved if the crazy ones are gathered together, far from the children.”

“Indeed. Shall we go back? I wouldn’t want to miss Katooni’s victory.”

They left the excitable vode for the children’s snowball fights, much more good-natured, although not any less acrobatic. The teams were a perfect balance of young Jedi and young vode so no side could have an unfair advantage, and the use of the Force was very carefree. 

“You’re going down!” Caleb was shouting, as the leader of one team.

“In your dreams!” Cal, the leader of the opposite team, shouted back. By his side, Katooni was bundled in a very warm hood — her tendrils were highly sensitive to the cold— and preparing a ball of terrifying proportions with several cadets.

Warmed by the laughter of the children, Obi-Wan and Cody walked hand in hand to the other adults they had left behind to investigate the wilder ‘options’.

“The Wolffepack is terrifying in every environment and situation, it seems,” Obi-Wan commented to Plo as they stopped by his side.

The Master of the Temple chuckled and nodded, glancing toward his men briefly before focusing on his Padawan — Zatt was trying to flank Katooni to avoid their defenses. “They have taken to this environment like fish to water.” He pulled a datapad from his coat. “I received the latest information from Coruscant regarding our last project.”

All ideas to improve the Order and adapt to their new circumstances were currently welcomed by the Council. The latest project was an offer sent to all Jedi Knights and Masters to transfer to the Corps of their choice if they wished. Officially, it was not necessary to provide a reason, but each applicant was invited to update their files as they did so, marital status and children included. 

Obi-Wan accepted it and looked through it cursorily. “Twenty-seven. Nine married. Five with children.”

“At last count. Did you expect more or less?”

“Honestly, I wasn’t sure. That’s why I suggested making it an open offer.”

“A judicious choice, it seems. Even without counting the married ones or parents, the wish to follow another path seems to have been on the mind of several.”

“After the war, I’m not surprised that some wish to get away from the possibility of violence.”

“Indeed.”

“I can’t begrudge them their choice, but the number of Knights is diminishing. I am afraid we’ll be forced to refuse or prioritize missions.” 

“We’re spread too thin as it is,” Plo agreed.

“And we all know what kind of missions come last in these situations,” Aayla added as she joined them. “We already have a reputation of soldiers and warmongers due to the war, we can’t cut the humanitarian missions.”

Cody was only half-listening, focused on keeping track of the kids in action. Bly stopped by his side, and they clapped each other’s forearm in greeting.

“Can’t stop talking shop, can they?” Bly whispered to him with a smirk.

“You know it,” Cody replied before putting his hands around his mouth and shouting: “Watch your nine, Katooni!”

This somehow stopped the Jedi mid-word, and Obi-Wan blinked at him in surprise. 

“That’s allowed?”

Cody glanced at him with a raised eyebrow. “It’s a snowball fight, Obi-Wan. There are no rules.”

“Oh… Well, then… in that case.” Obi-Wan cleared his throat and shouted: “The next lesson’s on the topic of your choice if you win, Katooni!”

The girl squealed in delight, and Cal turned toward them eagerly, asking: “Can I join?!”

“Certainly, Padawan,” Obi-Wan agreed, a bit surprised, before more little heads turned toward him, “... and vode.”

“You forgot again,” Cody commented fondly. His lover’s ability to overlook that he was seen as a war hero by most of Aliitya’s population, especially the younger ones, was uncanny.

This is how Obi-Wan found himself surrounded by a gaggle of enthusiastic younglings an hour later. The lesson ended up being more of storytime, but no-one complained about it. Fortunately, the kids had agreed to be herded inside, attracted by promises of hot beverages and food.

Cody was watching the gathering with a cup of caf in hand when Bly joined him, leaning against the wall.

“You seem to be happy with them.”

“I am,” Cody confirmed, before glancing toward Master Aayla speaking with Plo in hushed tones. “And you? Any progress?”

Cody and Bly had regular conversations about their Jedi and their difficulty to commit to a relationship. From what Cody had gathered, Aayla was going at it in an opposite way to Obi-Wan: agreeing to sex but not to living together. Thus the vode couldn't give each other advice, just lend each other an ear.

“She’s including me more in her life with her Padawan. We share meals, those sorts of things. I think that now that Ganodi and she are used to each other, she feels like she can include me.”

“It makes sense. Ganodi’s her first Padawan, right? She wants to focus on her.”

“Yes, she’s very careful about it. She doesn’t talk to me a lot about her yet, but... she’s watching you and Katooni closely.”

Cody hummed in understanding. “She isn’t the only one. Obi-Wan likes to joke we’re the model of the ‘new Jedi family’. A Master, a Padawan, and a clone.”

“Does it bother you?”

“Not personally, but it bothers him, so I’d like people to get with the program and just shack up.” At Bly’s grin, Cody crossed his arms. “What?”

“I’m trying, vod, I’m trying.”

Snorting, Cody bumped Bly’s shoulder. 

“You know who could use your help? Stone.”

“Stone?”

“You don’t know? He fell in love with a Jedi when he was protecting the Jedi Temple.”

“Really? Who?”

“An instructor. Mavra, I think her name is.”

“Does she love him back?”

“They’re making eyes at each other whenever they cross paths. The thing is, they don’t cross paths often anymore. She’s on Coruscant.”

Cody hummed. “I’ll let Obi-Wan know.”

“What will he do?”

“Probably ask her if she wants to come the next time they need an instructor on Lothal.” 

The call for dinner finally freed Obi-Wan from the children’s clutches. The Jedi made his way toward his friends with enough speed that Cody suspected he had an idea to share. Cody caught Bly’s elbow and dragged him along to listen.

“— create a new corps, a Humanitarian Corps?”

“An interesting idea,” Plo Koon admitted with a tilt of his head.

“Wouldn’t it be difficult to organize?” Aayla asked. “We are short-staffed as it is, and a new organization would require personnel.”

“But in the Corps, a good part of it could be hired. The vode would be perfect for such an organization,” Obi-Wan explained.

“That’s true. What of the finances, however? Humanitarian missions always require funds and goods.”

“Contrary to the Order, the Corps can accept donations,” Plo commented with a hand to his chin. “Yes, it could work. Excellent idea, Obi-Wan, you should share it during the next Council meeting.”

oOo Two weeks later oOo

“The Council agreed?” 

“They did,” Cody confirmed. “I’m surprised you didn’t hear of it. Senator Amidala was one of the first to offer her personal and official support. Naboo has a lot of experience with these types of missions, from what I gathered.”

Rex glanced over his shoulder before admitting, “It has been a few weeks since we contacted Naboo.”

“Is everything alright?” 

“Ahsoka and Anakin had a fight.”

“That’s nothing new.”

“No, they have disagreements. That was a fight,” Rex insisted, wincing. 

“About what?”

Rex hesitated but then shook his head, apparently intent on keeping his friend’s privacy. He summed up: “She just… needs a purpose.”

Cody leaned on the console. “Well, from what you told me, she used to think that the Jedi didn’t do enough to directly help people, right? Do you think she would be interested in the Humanitarian Corps? They need more hands.”

“You think they would take her back?”

“As a Jedi? I have no idea. But she doesn’t need to be one to join the Corps. You could join together.”

“I’m not sure if she’d be alright with being part of the Corps without being a Jedi,” Rex admitted with a thoughtful frown. “She’d be reminded of what she lost.”

“But would she like the Humanitarian Corps?”

“Oh, yeah. That part, definitely. It’s exactly the kind of purpose she needs.”

“Okay. Wait a sec, then.” Cody transferred the holocall from his terminal to his comlink. “Let me find Obi-Wan.” At Rex’s immediate smirk, he sighed. “Shut up, vod.”

“No, no, I won’t. I want the latest news. Did you do the do?”

“I’m stepping out in the hallways of the Temple, Rex. If you embarrass me in front of anyone, I’ll get even, and I can promise you it will be twice as bad. I just came back from Lothal, I got enough of that.”

“Who was the first to ask you how good your Jetii was in bed?”

Cody glared at the holo, but it was much less efficient in digital form and Rex didn’t lose his smirk. He was lucky there was no-one around, the di'kut.

“Alpha.”

“Alpha-seventeen? You’re pulling my leg.”

“I wish. He was ‘dying to know’.”

Rex laughed in his fist. “What did you do?”

“I replied that he would die wondering. And then Katooni saved me from what was probably a threesome offer.”

Rex cracked up, and Cody gave him the time to recover, lowering the volume of his comlink. 

“What, not interested?” Rex managed to get out in between giggles.

“With him? Definitely not.”

Before Rex could ask the next logical question, Cody reached the closest training room to his apartment and gestured for Rex to shut up. 

Katooni’s training was currently focused on concentration and it would be mean to distract her more than necessary. She was sitting on the floor, crossed legs, her eyes closed and covered with a blindfold. A little droid was programmed to hover around her and randomly bump into her. She was to push it away when and only when it got too close. If she failed, it sprinkled paint on her clothes. Cody could only see one stain, and they had started twenty minutes ago, so this was pretty good. 

Cody had always known that Obi-Wan was a good teacher — he had taught Cody a lot — but to see him in action was fascinating. He was also privileged to hear Obi-Wan’s thoughts and analysis. Thus, he knew that Katooni was a good student with very different difficulties from Anakin (Cody wasn’t surprised). She lacked the power and confidence of the Chosen One, and thus Obi-Wan was trying to play on her strengths to increase her self-esteem.

Obi-Wan was sitting in front of Katooni, serene. When he caught sight of Cody and the holo he carried, he stood up, saying softly: “Keep going, Padawan. You’re doing very well. Don’t let yourself be distracted now.”

“Yes, Master,” she murmured.

“Sorry to disturb you,” Cody whispered when his beloved reached him. “Rex has a question.”

“It’s no bother. Greetings, Rex.”

“Master,” Rex said with a polite nod. Hopefully, one day, they would spend enough time together that Rex would feel comfortable calling Obi-Wan by his first name as it had been offered, but they didn’t see each other often enough for that yet. Unfortunately. Cody missed Rex.

“What can I do for you?” Obi-Wan asked.

“We were talking about the Humanitarian Corps and Ahsoka. Rex thinks she’d be interested.”

Obi-Wan’s face lighted up. “That would be wonderful! She’d do great there, I’m sure.”

“But,” Rex added, “I’m not sure how she’d feel cooperating with the Jedi without being one. Do you think the Council could reinstate her?”

There was a small noise. Obi-Wan looked over his shoulder to see Katooni was covered with some more paint, scrunching her nose in frustration. With a tilt of his chin, he invited Cody to step out of the room and looked around the empty hallway before replying while scratching at his beard. His delight had been replaced by weariness.

“Rex, you have to remember that she left the Order. This was ultimately her decision, not the Council’s, no matter the circumstances at the time. If she wants to be a Jedi again, she’ll have to ask, and I can’t guarantee how that would be received by all the Councilors.”

“They could refuse?”

Obi-Wan sighed. “No. Not considering the circumstances, our wish to put the mistakes of the war behind us, and our dwindling numbers, but… it wouldn’t be easy on her to face the Council again, I think.”

“I don’t need easy.”

Rex startled and turned around toward someone out of view. “Ahsoka. Since when were you here?”

Ahsoka stepped into view, the holo showing how much she had grown since the last time they had met her. “Long enough,” she replied before meeting Obi-Wan’s eyes. “I talked to Master Plo. He told me about the Humanitarian Corps, about the changes to the Order. You’re trying to make things right, but you don’t have enough hands. Well… If you think the Council will agree… I’m done running.” She raised her chin high. “If the Jedi are trying to do better, I’m in. I want to come back.”

Obi-Wan’s surprised expression turned into a smile, soft and proud. “I will arrange a meeting.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It becomes more difficult to write for this story, thus I think we're arriving at the end here. Sorry about the prompts I won't be answering.
> 
> This one was difficult enough to write: once I had written the first draft, I thought it was terrible. Not so bad in the end, I think, but thanks a lot to my beta [arboreal](arboreal-elm-ash-oak.tumblr.com), for checking it out and giving me her honest opinion. =)
> 
> So, this is in answer to everyone who asked for more Codywan and Blyla, as well as _Seshat_Ra_ who wanted to know more about how it went with Pola Fertii, and those who wanted to know about Ahsoka's future. :)


End file.
